The Chronicles of Nepotism: Serpent's Stratagem
by Dracon Triad
Summary: Harry and Cosette Potter grew up in less than pleasant conditions. Both are surprised when they receive an invitation to a magical school. Life at the school proves very different from the Dursleys. Is it better? Depends on which of them you ask.
1. The Arrival of the Twins

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<p>

The Arrival of the Twins

Vernon Dursley was an easily recognizable man. He was extremely round with very little neck, and a mustache that looked as though it would be put to better use as a stiff broom. His enormous figure was exaggerated by his wife Petunia, a thin bony woman with a very long neck and a ravenous appetite for gossip. Both of them lived very orderly lifestyles centered around their son Dudley, who they both doted upon to a ridiculous degree. They were very particular people. They did not like things that disrupted the order in which they lived by. People who knew them would tell you they were the snooty neighbors that remained in a constant mood of reticence about other people's opinions. They were the sort of people who believed in order to the point where it seemed to dictate their lives. So when a man garbed in purple robes with a long beard came up to hug Vernon in the street; he was needless to say, not amused.

The man, as Vernon saw it; was not of the sharpest senses.

"Steady now, the time has come to rejoice for he-who-must-not-be-name has fallen. Even you muggles have reason to be merry," said the man as he feebly embraced Vernon and wandered off.

Vernon was quite unnerved and beside himself from the encounter. One thing he was sure of as he walked into work as a director of his drill company (Grunnings) was this; he had just been called a muggle. What he was quite unsure of was whether or not it was an insult.

After a few minutes this incident went to the back of Vernon's mind after he had decided that the term muggle was an insult. He went further to resolve that he should give the purple-garbed man a piece of his mind next time he saw him, as was the way of Vernon Dursley.

By lunchtime however, Vernon had completely forgotten about the whole incident. However, he experienced a rather rude awakening as he went across the street to purchase his usual lunch. More strangely garbed people had flocked into the streets since that morning, and Vernon angrily remembered the man who had insulted him earlier. Vernon walked across the street, strutting haughtily, ignoring the many people he regarded as freaks; thinking how ashamed they all should be for wearing such bizarre clothing.

As he ordered his meal at the counter he noted that many of the strangely-garbed people had even populated the restaurant and had plucked up the nerve to sit down and disrupt the orderly eating environment. A young red haired woman with bright red and gold robes approached the counter, as if to order food; but stopped short as if trying to figure out what she was supposed to be doing. Vernon glared venomously at the woman, noting her hat, which was small and woolen with a large red peacock feather stuck in it. She turned to Vernon and asked nervously.

"How do I go about ordering?" At this point Vernon was convinced that all these people were part of some kind of exclusionist cult, and that they all had far more teeth than brain cells.

Vernon tried to reply but found that words were failing him. He finally managed to utter, "H-how do you order?" In a tone that suggested that she had asked how he changed his underwear.

The woman blushed, able to tell she said something wrong by Vernon's tone, but she seemed to think she did something wrong on a level not related to Vernon at all. Vernon took his food and left, opting to eat in his office away from these people. He left the woman, looking embarrassed and confused at the counter; unsure of how to reply to the clerk who had began to inquire to her needs.

As Vernon was leaving the restaurant a few women, garbed in equally extravagant clothing, were chatting somewhat absentmindedly. The First woman was talking in a rather shrill voice, although she tried to mask this natural feature by speaking very low. Vernon only really heard because he picked up on one of the names mentioned.

"…Yes yes, and I heard the whole house had been destroyed. Poor dears, they have no family to go home to, the Potter children."

Vernon stopped cold as he heard that name, for you see his wife was related to people called the Potters, although they both despised the Potters more than anything in the world for they represented everything against what him and Petunia held firm by.

Thinking it a coincidence Vernon moved on, only staying long enough to hear the other woman reply that the children had "muggle" relatives in the area.

Petunia Dursley's sister, Lily Potter was the polar opposite of Petunia in every way imaginable. Among other things, Petunia regarded her sister as a freak of nature, and even more so her husband James Potter. So deep was Petunia's hatred that she grew an extreme distaste for anything unusual. Everything always had to be perfect— she even picked her spouse based on this— so Vernon, like his wife and in some cases because of her, equally hated things and people of bizarre dispositions. Therefore, having to spend the day in such close proximity with such people was very difficult for him, and what's more is that they all seemed to in some way know a family called the Potters, which made Vernon fearful that these people were somehow related to Petunia's sister, fearing that the incident that happened to these "Potters" would somehow affect him and his wife. He convinced himself many times that he must be overreacting, but always managed to un-convince himself when he rearranged his reasoning.

While he was driving home that day he got stuck in a minor traffic jam where he spotted the purple-robed man from that morning. Rolling down his window he stuck his head out it and yelled loudly to get his attention. The man turned and smiled back at Vernon, who made a quick rude hand gesture as he made a turn into a roundabout. The man meanwhile simply smiled and waved.

When Vernon finally arrived home he was greeted at the door by his wife, who seemed to have had a much better day than Vernon.

"How was your day dear?" Petunia asked in an overly sweet voice.

"Could've been worse," Vernon grunted as he kissed his wife and walked inside. "What's for dinner dearest?"

However, Vernon didn't really hear her, for his mind was currently thinking about the Potters who were mentioned earlier that day.

Him and Petunia retired to the lounge for tea, while they waited for dinner to be ready. They sat in a long solemn silence save the TV, Vernon mulling in thoughts on the people who surrounded him that day, and the mention of the Potters, while Petunia was thinking about her rather evidently enjoyable day. The reporter on the TV meanwhile was giving a report about bizarre amounts of owl sightings that day.

"Petunia dear…" Vernon said nervously, unsure if it was even wise to ask Petunia about it.

"Yes dear?" She replied.

"Do you by any chance know…?" Vernon paused.

"Know what?" Petunia asked.

Vernon apparently was making up his mind on whether to ask her or not, which didn't take long.

"…Do you know how your sister is doing?"

Petunia went very cold quite suddenly and shook her head slowly. If there was anything Petunia hated more than her sister it had to be talking about her sister.

"What brought this up anyway?" Petunia asked after a long cold pause.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Vernon said, although he continued shortly, as though his wife breaking the silence gave him leave to. "Don't they have twins? I suppose they would be around Dudder's age."

At this, Petunia nodded.

"Yes, they must be simply awful kids knowing her and her lot!"

Vernon at this point realized he had made a mistake by mentioning this and apologetically agreed with her and changed the subject.

The rest of the evening rolled on rather awkwardly, and Vernon kept battling the thought that they would somehow become involved in the Potters somehow from what he saw and heard that day. Eventually he convinced himself he was barking and fell asleep, not realizing how wrong he was about not being involved with the Potters.

A man in maroon robes, spotted with silken stars and moons, large velvet like hat and half-moon shaped spectacles, walked down the road. More striking than the man's garb was his physical features. He had deep blue eyes, a long white beard that seemed to disappear in his robes and a crooked nose on his tired worn face that told you he was quite old. He looked around the square that was Privet drive, a haughty middle class neighborhood that felt that common or unusual people should be punished by the law. In short, the perfect place for the Dursley's, not so much the man in maroon robes.

The lights in all the neighboring houses flickered and faded into the night in a systematic fashion, almost as if a dictated schedule demanded all the residents to turn in at the same time. The street lamps brightened up the deserted street. From in his pocket, the elderly man pulled a curious object, shaped like a large lighter, and with a flick of his wrist, the street lamps fizzled and died out as quickly as the lights in the houses. Not only did the lights die, but they seemed to somehow gravitate towards the man and the small device in his possession. The small lighter seemed to absorb the lights one by one, until the shadows of the night once again consumed the silent street.

Within the shadows, perched by one number four Privet Drive, was a cat. It wasn't a relatively abnormal looking animal, only a simple grey tabby. It stood in a regal manner, yet it was its eyes that held a look of keen awareness uncommon in animals. It surveyed the area with a look of concentration and around its wide, intelligent eyes, seemed to be indentations, hinting at the presence of glasses.

The old man approached the feline, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"Why, Good evening, Professor McGonagall."

The cat responded to his greetings. At that time, the cat slowly began to advance; only its body quickly began to change. Where it once began walking on four legs, it began to walk only on two. Cat like features morphed into human characteristics until finally, where once the cat stalked, stood a bespeckled woman of about fifty. She wore long robes of green velvet and a pointed hat hiding her hair which was pulled in a tight bun. Her face was rather strict, lips thinned with age with a rather sophisticated presence. Her posture was elegant and poise, much like her feline counterpart.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore," the woman responded.

"By chance, do you care for a lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked McGonagall.

McGonagall seemed to think this was a rudely out of place gesture, although she made no hint of this in her voice which seemed full of respect for Dumbledore.

"No thank you professor…"

"I came across them at one of the various parties going on, delightfully tasty muggle candies," Dumbledore said as he drew a bag from his pocket, pulling several lemon drops from it.

"I heard about the parties; they are not even caring to hide from muggles from what I heard."

"Did you go to any of them?"

"No," McGonagall said curtly.

Dumbledore smiled gently as he took one of the lemon drops.

"Shame, they were all great fun."

"I must ask you Professor, in regards to the rumors circulating," McGonagall said after a slight pause. "People are celebrating justly, we have not had a lot to celebrate for quite some time, but they are also saying that you-know-who's fall came in very unusual circumstances."

"Surely a powerful and educated witch such as yourself can be sensible enough to use his proper name. For the past eleven years I have always been telling people to use his proper name, all this you-know-who stuff is quite unbecoming and a bit of an annoyance."

"Fine, Voldemort," McGonagall spat, a hint of resentment in her voice. "They say that Voldemort showed up in Godric's Hollow, that he killed Lily and James, and then he tried to kill their twin children, Harry and Cosette," McGonagall it seemed would not believe the rumors until she heard them confirmed by Dumbledore. Her voice had a very clipped and urgent tone, like she was waiting for a long while to ask these questions to Dumbledore.

"Yes, the rumors are true, Lily and James are dead," Dumbledore said somberly.

"And w-what of their two children?" McGonagall said her voice breaking slightly. "They are s-saying that both of them survived, and what's more is that because he was unable to kill them V-v-voldemort lost all his power," McGonagall seemed to be struggling to hold back tears. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the corners of her eye.

"This is also true, Voldemort was unable to kill Harry and somehow his killing curse backfired," Dumbledore said in the same somber tone. "Though one thing that is untrue about these rumors is that Voldemort did not try to kill the twins, only the boy, his sister was not even involved."

McGonagall nodded curtly.

"With all due respect Professor, I do believe this meeting is being held for more important matters. I was just in a state of confusion when you called me here, I did not know if any of the rumors were true."

"Yes, of course," said Dumbledore in a rather resigned tone.

"So, what are the particular arrangements?"

"Hagrid is bringing the twins here, where we shall leave them in the care of their aunt and uncle here at number four."

"Are you sure it wise to entrust Hagrid with such an important task?"

"Ah Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life," Dumbledore responded.

As if on cue there was a great roaring noise coming from over the trees at the edge of the square. An enormous giant riding a flying motorcycle came soaring over the trees. With a colossal, metallic thud the bike's suspension touched down onto the once silent street, but not one soul stirred, as if the residents of Privet drive had been magically removed of their proper hearing.

The giant on the bike was massive by every meaning of the word. He was at least twice the height of the average man and at least thrice as wide. He had a tangled mane of brown hair and a long equally tangled beard which grew out at his upper cheeks, which were a rosy color from flying through the very strong cold breeze. He had small beady, black eyes and was carrying two bundles in a sling around his neck. With one, shovel like hand he supported the bundles as if they carried something very precious, his other hand on the bike.

"Pr'fessor McGonagall, Pr'fessor Dumbledore, sir," the giant nodded in greeting as he dismounted the bike, which gave a relieving sigh.

"No trouble I hope, Hagrid?" Dumbledore said as he pocketed the lemon drops.

"No sir, both o' them fell asleep jus' fine while we're flying over Bristol. Though this one seemed right bit upset for a good long while," Hagrid said indicating the first bundle, which he now held in his right hand.

Both Professors approached Hagrid to accept the bundles. It was now plain to all present that each blanketed bundle was a baby, unharmed in any way, though the one that Dumbledore held from Hagrid's right hand had a large lightning bolt shaped scar on its forehead.

"Ah yes. Thank you Hagrid," he stared down at the sleeping infant in his arms, undisturbed and innocent to all around.

"Is that?" McGonagall questioned staring at the scar on the first infant's forehead.

Dumbledore gave a somber nod.

"He will have that scar for the rest of his life."

"Can't you do something about it?"

"Even if I could I wouldn't," Dumbledore said shaking his head. "Scars can be very useful. I have one just above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. I have a similar scar by my right knee of the New York Subway System," Dumbledore smiled. McGonagall stared at him blankly.

There was a loud sniffle and a sound not unfamiliar to a fog horn. Looking up he spotted the burly form of Hagrid as he wiped his nose with a large handkerchief, smearing a good deal of black grease unto the off-white fabric.

"There there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, is it?" Dumbledore tried to placate the large man.

There was another loud sniffle and the giant nodded his head.

"I know I know, but… they're such lil' things…"

"Are you sure this is the best course of action, Albus?" McGonagall's stringent voice broke into the conversation, polite but firm, as if wanting to make sure the conversation did not stray once again from the matters at hand. "I've been observing these people all day and they –"

"-Are the only family they have," Dumbledore finished for McGonagall, and thus making any sort of rebuttal from McGonagall irrelevant. This didn't stop McGonagall from protesting however.

"They have a son. I watched his mother carrying the boy up the street kicking his mother and screaming for sweets. You can't send them off to be with this family. Especially not Harry, he will be famous!"

"Exactly, he's far better off growing up without all that."

McGonagall looked as if she wanted to add something, but the infant in her arms began to get a little restless, and so she shifted her attention to the babe by taking on a small rocking motion. The baby seemed to relax back into its blissful slumber soon after. McGonagall had to admit that Dumbledore was probably right. Famous for something one is too young to even remember, it was enough to make any boy's head turn.

"It is time," Dumbledore said somberly as he looked towards McGonagall.

She gave a small, curt nod and they both approached the door.

McGonagall was the first to set down the child, a small bit of reluctance could be seen in her movements. Before she stepped away, her hand reached into the blanket and touched the baby's cheek affectionately. Dumbledore took longer to put down the infant, and took to staring at the child with an unreadable expression on his wrinkled face.

"Take care, Harry Potter."

The boy did not stir, and he gently placed him down next to his twin. A letter was pulled from within the depths of his robes and settled onto the blanket of young Harry. The adults did not linger much afterwards. Dumbledore took out his lighter and clicked it and the light flew from it back into the original lanterns, and soon, the quiet settled once again over the customary, ordinary swellings of Privet Drive.


	2. Dudley's Birthday

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

Dudley's Birthday

Having managed to convince himself that his perfect lifestyle would not be in anyway affected by the Potters, Vernon Dursley was not pleased when he discovered how wrong he truly was. His wife had stepped out to get the newspaper bright and early, and began screaming uncontrollably from what she had found waiting on her doorstep. For the next ten years, both twins would be subject to the rather horrid treatment of the Dursleys, who maintained that neither of them existed to the rest of the neighbors.

The home of number four Privet Drive was of a comely sort. Simple furnishings decorated the house, a small tea set sat on the oak end table, a telly in the middle of the living room, and an immeasurable number of picture frames festooned most walls and available surfaces, all featuring a young, rather stout boy in some way or another.

"Get up! Both of you!"

The loud, yippy voice of Petunia became their wakeup call as she rattled noisily on the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Not waiting for a response, she swiftly unlocked the latch and made her way back into the kitchen.

Almost immediately following Petunia, there was loud, joyous laughter from one of the upstairs bedrooms, soon to be followed with thundering footsteps. Taking two at a time, a large boy emerged from the top of the stairs. Backtracking to a certain point in the middle of the staircase, he began to jump enthusiastically, shaking the structure under his meaty girth.

"Wake up, cousins!" the boy belted loudly. "I'm going to the zoo!" he gloated.

From under the stairs, a thin layer of dust and debris fell unto the pair sleeping quietly underneath the aggressive thumping.

They both sat up with a groan. In order to sleep comfortably in the small space provided, they both had to sleep facing opposite directions. One had a messy mop of black hair that even combed still resembled bed-hair, and the other had a rather tangled mess of dark red. The black haired boy, one Harry James Potter, reached over to retrieve his glasses off the small alcove just to the side of his sleeping mat while Cosette Lily Potter began rubbing her eyes futilely of the still falling saw dust.

The first of this sleeping pair, Harry, was a very skinny boy for someone his age. His clothes seemed to exaggerate his scrawny frame which gave him the accurate appearance of one who was rather malnourished. He had a messy mop of black hair that constantly annoyed his aunt who felt he made it messy with the intention of never looking presentable. He also had brilliant green eyes and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He found this scar to be the most striking feature he had, as not many people have scars quite like it. He had in the past asked his Aunt how he had gotten it and had received a rather unsatisfying answer that it was in the car crash his parents had died in and that he shouldn't ask so many annoying questions.

The second of the pair, Cosette, did not resemble her brother in the slightest. For one, she had longer hair that was a warm red color; it was also fairly straight though at the same time looked as though it had not been combed properly in years, making it look very messy all the same. She was, if at all possible, even skinnier than her brother. She also had a very different kind of face, while her brother's face was somewhat pointed and craven-like; her face was very gentle, pale and freckled. At the same time she looked as though it had never known joy and it was quite a startling thing to see such sorrow on such a young face.

They exchanged a quiet "good morning" before venturing out. The little space only allowed one of them to come out at a time while the other shoved themselves deeper into the stairs. Harry was the first to exit, and when he managed to open the door and place his foot out, he was shoved gracelessly back into the cupboard by his rampaging boar of a cousin. Harry's skinny frame was no match for his burly relative, and so he flew back into the cupboard and right into Cosette, who went careening backwards and into the undersides of the steps, knocking her head. Both twins groaned and they untangled themselves.

"You okay?" Harry asked his sister.

Cosette was rubbing her head gently, a pained look on her face.

"I'll be fine," she frowned. "Let's just go, you know we'll only get in trouble if we're late."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. The Dursley's didn't accept idleness, and if they took too long into getting into the kitchen, they would likely go without breakfast. They walked out of the cupboard a bit more carefully this time, as if expecting another wild attack.

Harry exited cautiously and found the hall abandoned. He stepped out gratefully stretching his cramped limbs, shortly followed by his sister who also stretched her sore muscles. They didn't idle; after all they knew they would regret it, though they also did not like the idea of entering the kitchen to watch their Aunt and Uncle continue to spoil their dreadful cousin. In the end they walked to the kitchen, Cosette still rubbing the back of her head while Harry gave her several concerned glances.

They entered the kitchen to the smell of a delightful breakfast that neither of them would eat. They knew the routine on Dudley's birthday better than Dudley himself knew it. The smell of bacon, buttery eggs, and toast filled their nostrils, shortly followed by the smells of spiced sausage and coffee for Uncle Vernon. None of these things were for either of them, it was Dudley's birthday breakfast and Cosette and Harry would be lucky to receive a bowl of cold porridge.

A stack of presents occupied the center of the table, all of them for Dudley. Dudley stood by the edge of the table counting them slowly one by one, a difficult math problem for his mind. Aunt Petunia immediately ushered the twins out of the way so they could be put to work, preventing them from ruining Dudley's birthday in any way. Cosette and Harry knew better than to argue, and went to work with whatever task Aunt Petunia had for them. Uncle Vernon grunted loudly, a sound that indicated that he required his coffee and sausages. Cosette retrieved both as quickly as she could; of course it wasn't quickly enough.

"About time, if you weren't so lazy in getting out of bed this morning you could have gotten to work sooner and maybe earned yourself a proper breakfast," Uncle Vernon said leering at the twins.

Both of them knew at that point they would get no breakfast, but they continued to work knowing not doing so would make matters worse. In the meantime, Dudley seemed to have finished counting the presents on the table.

"Only 36…" he said in a somewhat upset, disgusted, and sad tone.

Both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged glances of panic before Dudley exploded.

"Where's the 37th?" he bellowed. "Last Year you gave me 37! I want my 37!"

Aunt Petunia intervened nervously under her eleven year old son's bellowing rage.

"Don't worry diddykins," she said in a rather panicky tone. "When we go out today, we'll buy you two new presents! Is that all right? Two new presents?"

Dudley thought over the offer in his mind for a few moments before saying slowly.

"So I'll have…"

"38," his father said helping him with this simple math.

"That's one more than last year…" Dudley said starting to like the idea.

He then sat down and grunted his gratitude, reaching greedily for the first gift.

"Atta boy," Uncle Vernon said as if his son had just done something very gracious in virtue.

"Not to mention there are your presents from Aunt Marge in the mail," Uncle Vernon added encouragingly.

Cosette knew better than to stand staring like Harry and quickly pulled her clueless brother aside to serve the Dursley's their breakfast. Most of the breakfast was spent telling Dudley how they were going to spend the day centered entirely around him.

"…And don't worry diddykins. I've arranged for Mrs. Figg to take them," Aunt Petunia said, vaguely gesturing towards the Harry and Cosette. "So they can't ruin your day at the zoo."

Harry's heart sank. Mrs. Figg was an old woman who lived across the street from number four. Her house smelled strongly of cabbages, and she was quite fond of cats to the point where she would continually show him and Cosette all the old pictures of her cats one after the other, while serving them tea that tasted like it was made from seaweed. At the very least he and Cosette got away from the Dursleys and the worst they experienced with her was boredom. The Dursleys did this most every year on Dudley's birthday. The most recognition the two of them ever received on their birthday was they would receive an old pair of Uncle Vernon's socks if they were lucky.

As Dudley unwrapped his eleventh present (yet another video game for his new computer) the phone rang, prompting Aunt Petunia to answer it.

"Hello?" Aunt Petunia answered.

There was a long pause in which the person on the other end of the line introduced themselves and gave a couple of words, which made Aunt Petunia turn very white.

"Are you sure you can't take them?" she asked in a bit of a panic once more.

This made everyone turn their heads to Petunia, everyone except for Dudley who was still too busy unwrapping his gifts.

"I see," Aunt Petunia's lips pursed, "You could at least take one then. I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult for one of them."

Cosette was busying herself with washing the dishes, and couldn't hear the conversation over the rushing water. Harry however picked up every word and wondered over their meaning. After a short time, Aunt Petunia reemerged with a rather grim look on her face. She gave a nervous glance towards her husband who looked gravely inquisitive, and then to her son who was still blissfully ignorant to all around. When his aunt's pinched features finally landed on him, Harry couldn't help but gulp slightly. He knew that withering look all too well.

"That was Mrs. Figg," she began, addressing everyone, though her eyes stayed on Harry.

At the mention of the familiar name, Dudley's ears perked up.

"She says she has an important engagement suddenly come up and she can't watch _them_," she spat out the last word venomously.

Dudley, though rather dense, picked up immediately on the implications.

"What? That's not fair! I don't want _them_ mucking up my day! It's _my_ day! I won't have it! They always ruin everything!" he whined loudly as crocodile tears poured down his pudgy face.

He began stamping his foot, face red and teeth snarling. Harry took an unconscious step backwards, his sister joining him. She turned off the faucet and wiped her wet hands on her wrinkled nightshirt.

"Now, now Dudders… don't worry! I convinced her to take at least _one _of them to watch her infernal cats. You can still have a good day, and afterwards, we'll take you down to Shownie's for ice cream! How is that?" Aunt Petunia said in a high pitched voice quite unlike her own.

Dudley still fumed, but thought over the proposal. His mother bit her lip nervously, and Vernon quickly chimed in.

"It'll only be for a few hours Dudley, after all. You will hardly know one of them was there," Uncle Vernon choked.

The Potter twins were used to being talked about like they weren't even there, but their fate was still uncertain, and both mentally battled over which aspect would be worse; spending the day with the Dursleys, or being forced to babysit over twenty cats in a home that had more cat food in the cabinets then people food.

"We could phone Marge…" Uncle Vernon said in a hushed whisper to his wife as Dudley continued to pretend to cry.

"Don't be daft, she hates them," Petunia said quickly.

"What about your friend, Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca."

Uncle Vernon bit his bottom lip, trying to come up with a solution. He eyed his blubbering son with a sympathetic look.

"You could leave us here," Harry suggested, his sister giving him a skeptical glance.

None of the Dursleys seemed to even hear Harry.

"We could take one of them with us, and lock them in the car…" Uncle Vernon said as if trying to solve a difficult problem.

"Do you think it's best that we leave either of them in the car alone? It is new, after all."

Uncle Vernon slowly shook his head.

"I guess we'll have to take one of them with us…" Petunia said somberly.

Uncle Vernon gave a grim nod.

"Girl," Vernon grunted, and the slip of a girl nervously stood forward.

The Dursleys very rarely used either of the twin's first names, opting instead to refer to them as "boy" and "girl," or simply "them" and "you."

"You'll be babysitting old woman Figg's cats. I'm sure even someone like you couldn't possibly screw up such a ridiculously simple task."

Uncle Vernon then turned to his son and together he and his wife tried to comfort him by offering him five more presents and to be treated to his favorite restaurant. This seemed to calm Dudley down considerably after he was reminded for the third time that he would be spending the day with his best friend, Piers Polkiss, not just Harry.

Cosette simply nodded her head at her uncle, unsure if she should be grateful. On the one hand she was happy to be rid of the Dursleys for a day, but on the other, she dreaded being separated from her brother and sympathized with what he'd have to no doubt endure. She stole a glance at him and he returned her look. He understood as well. It was their silent communication, something they developed over the years. With a simple nod, they had had a whole conversation.

"_Take care; don't let them get to you." _

"_Don't worry, I'll be fine."_

"_I'll try not to kill the cats."_

"_I'll try not to lose our dinner."_

After breakfast, which the twins were correct in assuming they would get none of, they were quickly ushered to get cleaned up and dressed. Despite being of two different genders, they mostly shared the same clothing. Harry and Cosette were given the pre-owned jeans and t-shirts of Dudley as he grew out of them. Because of Dudley's large size, the extra-large children's clothes hung off of them terribly. Harry had to cuff the pant legs and tie the pants with a string around his waist as a makeshift belt or else risking exposing himself whenever he walked. Cosette wasn't as fortunate as her brother, for even next to her brother she was scrawny, and there was no way for the pants to fit her properly. Instead she was given Aunt Petunia's hand-me-downs, which included garish printed sixties floral dresses and miniskirts, which weren't so "mini" on her. They both traded off the t-shirts day by day. Needless to say, they both looked like scruffy ragamuffins.

When Harry came out of the cupboard under the stairs, and his sister from the bathroom, they were greeted by the sight of Aunt Petunia pinching Dudley's cheeks and talking in that insufferable baby talk. When Uncle Vernon glanced at the twins, she threw them a dirty look before ordering them quickly into the car. Harry and Cosette made their way towards the car. Cosette climbed in first, but as Harry went to join his sister, the car door was shut forcefully by a meaty hand.

Harry frowned as he looked up and met the eyes of his Uncle Vernon, who was leering down with him in disgust.

"I'm warning you now boy," he growled, pointing a sausage like finger at him, "We're only taking you because Mrs. Figg had a family emergency. Any funny business, and you and your brat of a sister won't eat for a week, do you understand?"

Harry nodded his head obediently.

"Yes Uncle Vernon."

His walrus of an uncle nodded to him, a gesture he knew meant hurry up and get in before I drive away without you. He quickly made it into the vehicle, catching sight of Dudley sitting next to his sister, smugly showing off one of his newest gifts –a Rubik's cube –to Cosette. She was frowning at the boy and ignored him as Harry got in. She gave him a worried look and he just shook his head in reassurance. The car started rolling off before Harry even had time to find his seatbelt.

Harry quickly buckled up as Uncle Vernon wheeled the car out of the drive and stopped a short ways down the street where Cosette got out without a single word from her or the Dursley's. Harry watched desperately as Cosette walked up to Mrs. Figg who ushered her inside her home. The car immediately pelted off down the road, you could tell Uncle Vernon was in a foul mood just from the way he was driving.

Dudley had managed to scramble the Rubik's cube and was in the process of trying to solve it. It didn't take long for Dudley to give up on it however and throw it at Harry's head. Unfortunately the cube flew clear over Harry's head and landed on the dashboard, causing Aunt Petunia to let out a short scream. Uncle Vernon braked sharply, nearly throwing Harry's skinny frame out from underneath the seat belt. Uncle Vernon's meaty face was a deep shade of puce, and the vein by his temple was twitching as it so often did when he was angry. His eyes fell on Harry who was trying to resituate himself from being thrown forward so suddenly.

"What did you mean by it boy?" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

Harry was silent; he knew there was little point to saying anything.

"Trying to ruin your cousin's day are ya?" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Well, I won't let that happen! I'll deal with you when we get home."

Uncle Vernon was wrong however. Even if Harry had thrown the cube it wouldn't have ruined Dudley's day. In fact it would have made Dudley's day since Dudley was currently having fits of laughter from Harry's scolding.

Uncle Vernon stopped briefly to pick up Piers Polkiss, he was a rather scrawny and rat faced kid that always followed his best friend's lead. For one thing he did not like Harry because Dudley didn't. Piers and Dudley began talking loudly, making fun of Harry as they did so. Harry tried his best to ignore them, but found it difficult at times, especially when they brought up Cosette and started saying mean things about her as well.

Uncle Vernon drove on, arriving at the zoo only a few minutes late thanks to his reckless driving. The Dursleys got out of the car shortly followed by Piers, pretending Harry wasn't even in it as they walked towards the zoo. Harry didn't mind; he found it an improvement. The whole day Harry trailed several paces behind the Dursleys, just enough that people wouldn't think he was walking alone, but wouldn't automatically perceive that he was in the company of the Dursleys. Harry didn't care too much for the zoo, for he never saw what was so amazing about looking at animals that were forced into cages for human entertainment. In a way, Harry sympathized with the animals, knowing a good deal what it was like to be forced in places you didn't want, and having people stare at you like you are some sort of exhibit.

Things didn't get interesting until the reptile house. Harry never thought too much of snakes and lizards; he wasn't afraid of them nor did he have an affinity to look for them. Yet, even he was curious, having never seen one other than on the telly. So when Harry and his cousin Dudley approached the tall glass case of a 300 pound boa constrictor, it was with a bit of a curiosity. It didn't move much, just laid there sunning itself on a rock before the heat lamp. Dudley eagerly pressed his face against the glass, his pudgy face deforming even more as he stared. Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly as the sight was all too perfectly comic.

"It's not moving," Dudley whined, pulling his face away. "Make it move!"

Vernon made a motion to tap on the glass slightly, but the snake didn't stir. Angered by the snake's lack of response to his griping, Dudley banged harshly on the glass, rattling the display. Uncle Vernon made a grab at his heart, as if the sudden movement would cause him to have a heart attack. Piers joyfully joined in with Dudley as they both banged loudly on the glass.

"Move!"

Still, the snake didn't budge from its nap, and Dudley quickly lost interest. He turned with an impatient sigh and wandered off towards the iguana which seemed much livelier. Piers followed closely behind.

Harry decided to stay put, not having the same abysmal patience as his cousin.

"You'll have to forgive Dudley; he doesn't exactly know what it's like to live in a cage."

It wasn't as if he was really expecting a reply, after all, but when the snake raised its head and stared at him, Harry got a curious feeling.

"Can…can you understand me?" he uttered, almost not believing it was even possible.

Snakes didn't understand people, was he hallucinating?

The large boa constrictor nodded its head enthusiastically, and Harry felt something akin to fascination boil inside his stomach. This wasn't the first time something unusual happened around him, and he was briefly brought back in time when he and his sister were in class and the teacher's hair turned a bright remarkable shade of blue.

"I've never talked to a snake before," Harry started, at odds as to what he should say.

How does one talk with a snake, and what about?

"Are you from South America? You have family there?"

The snake tilted its head towards the left of the glass as if pointing. Harry turned his head and saw the sign reading _Bred In Captivity_. Harry felt a sad smile reach his mouth.

"Me too," he said sadly, "My sister and I were orphaned. I've never really known my family."

Before Harry could notice any subtle answer from the snake, he heard the startled shout from Dudley. He heard the boy's thumping footsteps before he felt the shove that knocked him across the floor. Harry sat up, glaring at his cousin who stared with awe at the snake which was now wide awake and erect.

"Piers! Come Look at this!" Dudley said leaning against the glass.

Harry glared maliciously at his cousin, wishing something to put him out of his good humor would occur. Harry was genuinely surprised when such a thing actually occurred. The glass separating the snake from Dudley completely vanished, knocking his cousin off balance since he was leaning so much of his weight against something that was no longer there.

Dudley fell into the boa constrictor enclosure, making a large splash in the heated water, which splashed onto the floor outside the enclosure. The snake gracefully slithered out onto the floor of the reptile house. It might have been Harry's imagination, but he could've sworn that the snake hissed a quiet thanks before slithering off.

Dudley was absolutely petrified, he didn't move a single muscle until he was sure the snake had slithered a good distance away. Piers was lost for words. His best friend had just fallen through a space he could've have sworn had a glass barrier in place. Dudley stood up, quite soaked and shivering as he made to get out. Harry knew his shivering was an act since he could see steam against the glass of the heated enclosure. Suddenly something hit Harry, the glass was still there. Had it vanished and returned promptly? Or had it been there the whole time through some miracle? Either way, Harry couldn't help but laugh as he saw the look on his spoiled Cousin's face as he too realized the glass had materialized once more. Harry's joy however was short lived as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came strolling up the way. Uncle Vernon was laden with three ice cream cones, and was complaining loudly at the people who were running this way and that, screaming about snakes.

"Of course there are ruddy snakes," Uncle Vernon said. "You'd think these people—"

Uncle Vernon stopped short, turning paper white as he spotted the position his son was in. He was banging loudly on the glass trying to gain their attention as if he had not already received it. Aunt Petunia dropped the ice cream and screamed louder than anyone else in the area. She ran over to the glass screaming incoherently. Uncle Vernon turned to Harry who couldn't stop laughing. He looked absolutely livid. His face would have been a lovely shade for a rose to be, but seeing that color on his face was an entirely different story.

Uncle Vernon reached down and pulled Harry to his feet by his untidy hair.

"What did you mean by it, boy?" he growled, flecks of spit leaving his mouth to land on Harry's glasses.

Harry nearly choked on his uncle's heavy breath, his teeth grinding so loud it was giving him a headache.

"I didn't do anything!" Harry said as he felt some small locks of hair come loose under Uncle Vernon's grip.

"Then what happened?"

"I swear I don't know, the glass just seemed to vanish!"

"Oh, so it magically disappeared did it? That explains why it's still there doesn't it?" Uncle Vernon snarled putting deadly emphasis on his last few words.

"Vernon! Dudley!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, reminding her husband of more urgent matters.

This seemed to have an effect on Uncle Vernon who relinquished Harry saying that he would deal with him later. His face still a bright red color, he stalked off in a hurry to find a keeper.

After Many apologies from the flustered keepers, the Dursleys headed off with a well wrapped Dudley. If Uncle Vernon's driving was reckless going to the zoo, there weren't words to describe it coming back. Within a few short minutes the Dursleys had picked up Cosette, who noted the wet sniveling Dudley; and although she couldn't be happier to see her cousin in such a state, she feared for what it meant to her and her brother.

Uncle Vernon pulled into the drive way of number four, and got out of the car, shortly followed by Aunt Petunia, her arms wrapped around her son as if he was in desperate need of medical attention. The Dursleys walked inside, ignoring the twins. Cosette took the opportunity to ask Harry what had happened.

"I really don't know. All I remember is being particularly annoyed at Dudley. Next thing I know, the glass window Dudley was looking at vanished and he fell into the snake's cage. It was like magic."

Cosette shook her head. Unusual things seemed to happen around the twins; both understood these occurrences seemed unavoidable for them, even if they were unexplainable.

"Come on, we best not just sit here or we'll be in more trouble," Cosette said as she got out of the car.

Harry nodded grimly and got out to follow his sister.


	3. The Hurricane of Letters

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

The Hurricane of Letters

Both twins were perceptive enough to know to avoid the Dursleys, and silently accepted the fact that they would be receiving no supper. Harry was seized immediately by the arm as soon as his uncle was assured his "Diddykins" would be alright. Harry was scolded in Uncle Vernon's typical fashion where he would grind his teeth, spit, and breath through his coffee stained teeth only inches from Harry's face. Cosette on the other hand, was pushed up the stairs and told that she was to take over both twins' chore of cleaning the upper floor. This was to keep the twins separated from each other for as long as the Dursleys could find an excuse to. It wasn't unheard of that when one twin got in trouble, they both paid for it, particularly with the Dursleys.

They didn't meet again until after supper; Harry not allowed out of the cupboard, and Cosette having to prepare dinner, of which neither would partake. She couldn't sneak food out, for the Dursleys kept a strict count on all of their foodstuffs, to the exact measurement of how much milk was left. And so, when Cosette was allowed to retire to under the stairs, it was to join Harry with starved, growling stomachs, having not eaten at all that day.

She ventured in with a small, timid smile, which Harry returned in kind, only to be interrupted by his belly, loudly proclaiming its discomfort. They heard Aunt Petunia locking them in from the outside, assuring that they couldn't get out.

"I'm sorry that I cost us our dinner," he sighed, lowering his eyes.

"Forget it," Cosette dismissed. "They would have found some way to deny us supper today anyway, just because we interrupted _Dudders_ birthday. I'm just glad that you did it with a bang!"

They shared a small laugh, a quiet one; for they knew anything above regular volume would alert the Dursleys.

"Besides," Cosette added, reaching into the pocket of her skirt. "It's not a complete loss."

Harry watch as Cosette procured a small tin can from her pocket, staring at it like it was the key to heaven.

"Where did you –?"

"Nicked it from ol' Figg's cabinet," she said, sounding proud of herself.

She placed the tin– which was in reality a simple can of tuna –in front of them both. She also pulled out two plastic forks, also from Figg, and the Dursley's can opener, which she carefully concealed throughout the meal while preparing supper. It was one of the good things about having to share old clothing; Dudley's t-shirts were so large they reached almost to her knees and hid the bulge of anything she would keep in her pockets. In silence, the twins shared the can, thinking that it would most likely be the best thing they would have to eat for days.

The weeks passed on at a rather grueling pace, as they always did at the Dursley household. Dudley had received the uniform for his father's old school; Smelting's, where he would be going in the fall and was in high spirits for one supposedly still dealing with the trauma from what happened on his birthday. The uniform had come with a cane and Dudley took particular pleasure in hitting people with it around the house. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were nursing their shins most of the day as a result, but they were still convinced that this was just Dudley's playful nature and so he was left to terrorize the twins as well. At certain points Harry and Cosette weren't sure how they could stand to live with the Dursleys much longer. The Dursleys didn't let the twins easily forget how they ruined their cousin's birthday. Cosette one night asked Harry if it was at all possible to leave the Dursleys, though Harry could not formulate anything that would improve their position. Fortune smiled on the twins however, when something happened the following morning. Something that triggered a series of events, that if anything improved the twins' position in some ways if not in others.

The following morning the post arrived. This wasn't an unusual thing in and of itself, for the mail arrived every day but Sunday at Privet Drive. With it that day, however, came a rather startling beginning of events. Cosette was preparing the fattening breakfast for the Dursleys, as was her job, while Harry went to retrieve the post. He carefully collected the letters and rifled through them, as was his custom everyday. It wasn't like he was really expecting a letter of his own, but the little nagging hope in the back of his mind always egged him to just leaf through them. A small part of him was vainly hoping that maybe he would get one, from a faraway relative maybe, promising to take him and his sister away to a nice, loving home. Or maybe even a simple letter explaining that someone knew they actually _existed;_ that would be nice too.

And so when his mindless shuffle came to an abrupt halt, he half didn't believe his prayers were answered. In his hands was a cream colored envelope, and scripted upon the paper was a fine calligraphy print:

_To _

_Harry James Potter_

_The cupboard under the stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

Harry stood paralyzed at the door, not quite believing what his eyes were showing him. He wondered if his sister had received a letter as well, and briefly looking through the assortment in his increasingly sweaty grip, he noted she too received a letter, also addressed peculiarly enough to the _cupboard under the stairs_. He was only half aware that his feet were carrying him back into the kitchen, and handed the rest of the mail, save the two letters, to his uncle. It wasn't until he was in the process of ripping the red waxen seal to divulge who had sent such a thing, that he felt the paper being rudely snatched from his hands, as well as his sister's.

"Look! Look! Harry's stealing letters!" Dudley sang joyously.

This caused Cosette to suddenly turn from the stove and observe curiously, giving Harry a questioning glance. He didn't have time to return her look, and he quickly rose to defend himself.

"It's my letter," Harry said. "Mine and Cosette's."

Uncle Vernon gave a short laugh, his large body jiggling unpleasantly.

"Your letters, you say? Who in there right mind would want to write to you lot?"

That's the question Harry wanted to know the answer to, but figured now he probably wouldn't get the chance to even read it. Harry felt a heavy stone falling through the pit in his stomach. His legs felt rather weak as he realized he would never get to read the one letter he ever received in his whole life. The one kind thing in his and Cosette's lives had been snatched away just as quickly as it came. Cosette approached him after turning off the stove and gave him a sour look. Harry didn't quite understand why she looked so annoyed, but quickly assumed it had something to do with the letters.

When he looked back at the Dursley's he was greeted with the sight of both of them staring at the back of the envelope with pale faces. It looked as if they were staring at a ghost and it was only with a foreboding weight that they shifted their attention to Harry and Cosette. The twins both froze in dread. Harry not sure what to expect and Cosette still gathering the events that led up to the Dursley's fearful glares.

"You lot…" Uncle Vernon said in a very slow, almost scared voice. "Out…"

Dudley gave a satisfactory smile, enjoying the results of what he had done. Harry and Cosette didn't say a word. They knew they were in for some form of serious trouble, just because someone had sent them mail. Both twins moved towards the door but they stopped cold as the heard Uncle Vernon speak again.

"You too Dudley…"

Everyone except Aunt Petunia, who was staring at the twins; looked fearfully at Uncle Vernon. Dudley was quick to protest but he was quickly quieted by Uncle Vernon to leave with the twins.

"I shouldn't have to leave with them!" Dudley whined.

"Do as your told boy!"

Uncle Vernon had never used such an angry tone with Dudley and certainly never called him "boy." Dudley seemed near a temper tantrum.

"I don't need to leave! I won't! I won't!" As he rapped his father on the head with his stick, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to notice.

Uncle Vernon stamped his foot and Aunt Petunia fearfully ushered the twins and Dudley out of the room, coaxing Dudley that it would be alright and that they would buy him something nice. As soon as the trio was out of the kitchen with the door shut, Dudley immediately pushed the twins out of the way to carefully inspect the keyhole to the door.

Neither of the twins ever found out what was written on those letters, for almost immediately after they read the envelope (he wondered what about the script warranted their uncharacteristic reaction), they tore them up into indiscernible pieces and threw them in the trash bin. Later that night, Cosette glared at Harry and remarked how ridiculous it was of him to even show the letters to the Dursleys, and after thinking back on it, he agreed that it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do. He was just so excited about the prospect, he didn't think of the consequences.

Harry and Cosette were alone in the world. The Dursley's treated them little better than slaves, and they had absolutely no contacts with anyone outside the house, so could anyone blame him for his sudden interest into who wrote? They truly only had each other, and because of that, they fiercely hung on to each other, constantly clinging to one another for emotional support. They learned early on they could only truly depend and trust themselves. Though each twin handled situations differently, they both felt the same amount of neglect and abuse.

The abuse had its lasting effects, however. Cosette, being of gentler nature, shied away and it and slowly ate away at her self-respect. Harry had to look out for his sister, and naturally learned to thicken his skin against the brute force of their torment in order to protect her. Thus, a strong trust was formed; an allegiance that ran deeper than simple blood relation, for that truly had no meaning to them, seeing as the Dursleys weren't the model family.

The letters didn't stop coming that entire week. The very next morning in fact, Uncle Vernon opened the door to leave off for work, but nearly tripped on a large pile of elegant envelopes, in which he released his rage from the previous day on. Seeing three owls perched outside did not help Uncle Vernon's mood. It was an odd sort of feeling, to have the letters appear again the next day. It was as if someone knew they had not received the letters in a way. Who would send them this much mail? Harry became more and more hopeful that the letters contained wittings from loving relatives and many of them contained arrangement plans to take him and his sister to live with them. The prospect was too good to ignore, and Harry remained hungrier and hungrier to read at least one of the letters he was continually denied.

Uncle Vernon had taken the habit of going to get the mail himself, and when he spotted the letters, simply tore them up. As the week wore on, and the strange letters kept returning, Uncle Vernon became even more anxious and nerve-wrecking. He took care to filter the mysterious letters from the rest of the mail and would place them on the kitchen table in a neat pile underneath his sausage like fingers. This was to tease the twins with the presence of the letters before he would burn them. While Harry became more and more interested in the letters, Cosette was too busy trying to hide from the assault of the Dursley's; which became more rabid since the coming of the letters. Cosette and Harry were focused on entirely different things in the household and as a result, both twins were left to fend for themselves more often than they would like. This caused much distress on Cosette's part. Uncle Vernon became crueler than usual and had reduced Cosette to tears when he snatched one of the letters she had tried to run off with. Aunt Petunia had taken the habit of giving each twin a new task to perform whenever she met either of them to keep them busy and away from the letters.

Dudley in the meantime, refused to cease asking about the letters. It had gotten so bad, in fact, that Uncle Vernon had actually nailed the post slot shut, grinning maliciously at them as he did so. What was even stranger was that owls accumulated in the front lawn and roof during the arrival times of the letters. Owls of all shapes, sizes and colors decorated the Dursley's front yard, much to their disgruntlement. There was nothing they hated more than a break in their perfect home.

Then Sunday came, a day that Uncle Vernon greeted with a bright relieved smile. He was lounging in the sitting room, talking animatedly in his high spirits to his wife. Dudley was on the rug, eyes glued to the telly.

"Sunday," Vernon sighed, the fat smile on his face hidden behind his brush of a moustache. "No post on Sunday." This sentence only made him grin wider, and he chuckled a bit.

"No, no mail or ruddy owls today!"

The twins tried to tune him out, but he seemed to be talking rather verbosely, as if taunting the two with this information. They both turned towards the door, when they heard the familiar sound of a screeching owl. Stealing a glance between them, they both checked to see if the Durselys noticed; they did not. Their uncle was still taunting about when a slip of white flew in from the chimney and right under Vernon's nose. It startled him so much, that he faltered his speech and sputtered.

What followed could only be described as magical. There was a thundering sound, one that sounded like the roaring footsteps of a herd of a hundred animals, or the rumbling claps of thunder. Both twins stared at the fireplace, the apparent source of this sudden reverberation. Then, before anyone could make comment, the room was filled with fluttering, flying bits of paper as a thousand-thousand-_thousand_ letters came tumbling in. Vernon grunted in surprise, being assaulted by the letters and knocked off his chair. Petunia screeched in terror and ran for Dudley, who squealed and dove under the couch for cover. The letters continued to fall out of the chimney forming a great pile in the fireplace that overflowed onto the hearth rug, only ceasing once the letters had clogged up the space beneath the coffee table. The board clogging the mail slot broke and streams of letters poured through, flooding the hall with enough letters that it required you to wade through them. At the same time letters began to enter the house from the cracks under the door, both the back and front.

The twins, for their part, were left standing for a few seconds in awe-shattering disbelief, before it finally kicked in what was happening. Neither spoke a word, but went immediately dashing into the storm of post mail. They both laughed somewhat in the tirade of flying paper, until they finally found each other's letter in each other's hand. They both took off running without a word, Cosette to the door and Harry under the stairs. Unfortunately, neither was quick enough to escape Vernon's sudden explosive anger. He had somehow gotten his massive weight up off the floor and grabbed each scrawny twin by the collar of their shirts. They struggled vainly in his grip, kicking about as he pulled each away from escape.

"Let go!" Harry found his voice. "They're our letters!"

"Leave us alone!" Cosette joined her brother, thrashing so much her shirt tore terribly.

Finding Harry was more difficult to maintain his grip on than Cosette, he tossed the girl away from the door and into the hallway, where she landed with a shriek onto a bed of post. Harry, enraged by the treatment to his sister, began to fight more, but his own thinness was no match for Vernon's superior girth. He quickly restrained the boy in a tight head lock and snatched the letter from his hands, tearing it in the process.

"We're getting out of here!" Vernon shouted over the roaring and fluttering havoc around them. "To someplace they'll never find us! Never!"

Petunia stood uselessly in the corner, where she and Dudley stared fearfully in silent stupor. Cosette had picked herself up, but found that the weight of the violent letter assault was too much for her to stand, and they knocked her back over. She was soon covered from head to foot in a matter of seconds in a paper made grave.

"That's it!" Uncle Vernon yelled as he wrestled the twins away from the chimney and doors. "Where going away!" Uncle Vernon declared in a rather forced calm voice. As if he was announcing their holiday plans. "Petunia, Dudley get in the car!"

Petunia didn't waste any time ushering her son out of the door and into the car, shortly followed by Vernon who was flanked by the twins and had to tread carefully to avoid the owls. The Dursleys just like that all got in the car and began to drive off. Dudley fearfully asked his mother.

"Has daddy gone mad?"

Aunt petunia didn't answer and Dudley was left to cry about the television shows he was missing, but aside from Dudley no one made a single noise as they drove on endlessly. It must have been hours they drove since it had begun to get dark.

Finally they stopped at a small country hotel and checked into a single room. Dudley was in a rather teary state and immediately claimed the second of the two beds to rest from crying the whole drive. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't say anything as they climbed into the first bed. Cosette and Harry exchanged brief looks before settling down on the floor to quietly fall asleep.

The following morning however, despite Uncle Vernon's best efforts at least twelve boxes filled with the mysterious letters arrived in the Hotel lobby. The confused clerks brought the letters to Uncle Vernon's attention as he went down to breakfast. He walked directly back to the hotel room and announced what happened. He seemed to be in a rather desperate manic state.

"We'll just have to go further away! Somewhere they will never find us."

Within minutes everyone was back in the car, including a very tired Dudley who complained loudly about having to travel again. They drove on from morning till night, when it started to rain quite heavily. Uncle Vernon was driving down a seaside gravel road, the rain falling hard and the sea crashing heavily against the rocky shore. He spotted a small light in the distance and pulled over explaining that he was going to go up to the light that he suspected was a dock and ask them about any possible lodging arrangements. No one said anything as Uncle Vernon stepped out of the car, umbrella in hand.

Everyone was left in a comfortable silence save the patter of rain against the car. Dudley was still counting off TV shows he's missed. Cosette finally broke the silence with a quiet whisper directed towards Harry.

"Who do you think is writing to us?"

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "But I certainly wish I did."

"They certainly have gone to some extreme effort to try and get mail through to us."

"Yeah…" Harry said somewhat distracted.

"Why do you think the Dursleys are so desperate to keep us from the letters?"

"I don't know, suppose it's just them trying to keep us from being happy, as usual."

"Maybe, but I doubt even the Dursleys would take us out to wherever we are by now just to prevent us from getting mail."

Cosette made a good point. If the Dursleys simply didn't want the twins to be happy and not receive any mail from anyone they would have given in when letters started pouring down the chimney. They wouldn't have gone to the extreme measure they were currently going through. The contents of the letter had to have a much deeper significance, but what significant information could it possibly be to lead the Dursleys to the extremes that they had arrived at? The only thing that could be gleamed for certain was that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew something they very much did not want to share with the twins. Something the letters apparently would reveal to the twins at the displeasure of the Dursley's.

Through the fogged blurry windshield one could make out the outline of Uncle Vernon who opened the door letting in a rush of cold air and the sound of rain outside as thunder clapped overhead. He climbed into the car, half soaked despite having his feeble umbrella.

"I found a man who is willing to rent us a rowboat and lodging on a small hut of the coast," he announced proudly as he turned around to leer at the twins.

"Let's see if they deliver mail there!" he said maliciously, a rather mad glint in his eye as he turned the engine of the car over and drove up the road toward the dock.


	4. The Keeper of Keys

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

The Keeper of Keys

Uncle Vernon drove up to the dock and parked the car beneath a small shabby car port. He got out indicating everyone else should follow. He looked severely overtired with his hair sticking out in odd directions and had a manic, rather unnerving glint in his eye. Aunt Petunia seemed very scared of her husband at the moment and simply walked briskly by his side pushing her son forward who seemed beyond miserable. Harry and Cosette seemed to think that Uncle Vernon was not to be trifled with at the moment and got out of the car into the cold rain. They hurried to catch up with the Dursleys, their oversized clothes acting as soft rain coats. They caught up with Uncle Vernon who was handing a number of bills to a small portly man that smelled strongly of garlic even in the spray of the sea. The man had a very rough aged voice as he thanked Uncle Vernon for the payment. He surveyed everyone in the group with a wary gaze. He was a very old man with a lined grey face that seemed to have aged with the sea. He looked at Harry as though he was making second thoughts about the deal he made with Uncle Vernon.

"Well?" Uncle Vernon said in a voice quite unlike his own. "Where is the boat?"

The man did not respond for several moments and when he did it was in his rough voice, but it seemed more solemn since had spotted Harry and Cosette.

"Yes…" he said. "Follow me."

He led the group down a short set of steps to a small side-dock where a large rowboat was tethered.

"Here it is," he announced indicating the boat. "Will you need anything else?"

"No," Uncle Vernon said shaking his head.

"Alright," said the man as he walked past the group huddled on the dock and back up the stairs.

He walked a short distance and disappeared into what must have been a boat house. Uncle Vernon seemed rather giddy with excitement as he got into the boat and beckoned the rest to do the same. Aunt Petunia followed with her miserable son who was not at all pleased with sitting in the shaky wet boat.

"Come on then," Uncle Vernon said to Harry and Cosette. "Untie the boat so we can get a move on, those letters aren't going to avoid themselves!" he said excitedly as he placed both oars in the water.

Harry and Cosette grimly followed Uncle Vernon's demands and got into the boat. Uncle Vernon still had an unpleasant glint in his eye as he began to row the boat out towards a small island lined with fog in the distance. No one noticed this island for a while however since it was nearly impossible to see in the thick fog.

"Let's see if the post delivers to this address!" Uncle Vernon chortled as he rowed on; seeming to get more and more energy from his tiring work.

The rain fell hard and Harry began to shiver as the water on his seat soaked through his pants. Cosette wasn't faring much better considering the fact she was wearing a sixties floral miniskirt. The large waves also shook the boat rather unpleasantly, and made one think it was not ideal weather to be rowing in. For every stroke forward the boat was pushed half a stroke back, not to mention the boat almost always came dangerously close to capsizing, which made the miserable Dudley by Aunt Petunia rather terrified. But none of this seemed to daunt Uncle Vernon as he rowed on. By the time the group had reached the small island everyone was soaked in salt water, their clothes clinging to their skin. Uncle Vernon wasn't depressed despite also being soaked. On the contrary, Uncle Vernon seemed to be moving with renewed vigor in his step now that they had arrived at the island. Cosette at this point was clinging rather desperately to her brother for warmth who returned the gesture by placing a kind reassuring arm around her. Despite this, neither of them could stop shivering.

After Uncle Vernon tied the boat to a small wooden post on the rocky shore, everyone clambered out, with some difficulty since the shore was raised about two feet above the rim of the boat. Uncle Vernon clambered out of the boat first and walked up the rocky shore to the dingy worn down house that looked more like a well aired shack. This left Aunt Petunia to haul her son out of the boat, no easy task given his size versus her frame; not to mention his terrible mood which made it difficult for Aunt Petunia to coax him into putting any extra effort into getting out of the boat to help her. When the Dursleys had all gotten out, Harry and Cosette were not surprised to find themselves left in the boat. Despite knowing they would have to rejoin the Dursleys afterwards, they were not inclined to stay in the boat which was shaking more heavily without the Dursley's combined weight to weigh it down. Not to mention the rain was still falling as hard as ever and both of them were freezing.

"Come on," Harry said encouragingly to his poor sister. "It might not be a whole lot but at least we can get dry," Harry indicated the shabby hut near the top of the island.

Cosette nodded simply as Harry helped her out of the boat. She then turned to help Harry clamber out and the duo made their way up against the gale to the hut where they found Uncle Vernon desperately trying to light a fire to no avail. Harry and Cosette felt almost instantly warmer. Even though the hut was very leaky, it was certainly loads better than being out in the rain. Plus it was a summer's rainstorm, the main benefactor to the chill it gave everyone was the wind and sea spray where as in here neither was a particular bother. Dudley however was mumbling incoherently, very un-used to getting so little attention from either of his parents.

Uncle Vernon gave a wide sneering grin as the twins entered the hut.

"I wonder if the post delivers here," he said with some form of a horrible laugh, apparently forgetting the fire.

The evening rolled on rather grimly for everyone, Uncle Vernon being the only one in a non-dampened mood. The group soon discovered that the only thing to eat was canned pork and beans which wouldn't have been so bad if not for the fact that they had no can opener. The bedding situation was also rather depressing. There was only one bed located in the second room of the shack. A moth eaten moldy mattress that looked as though it had soaked in the sea for a time, especially with its rusted bed frame and even moldier bed-sheets. The bed smelled terrible and creaked horribly at the slightest movement that not even Dudley was upset when his parents took it, making him to sleep with a moldy blanket on the couch on the hearth, Harry and Cosette made to sleep on the hard dusty ground of the hut, dried brine coating the twins messy hair and caking itself to their skin.

Despite being awfully uncomfortable in their wet clothes, everyone soon managed to get comfortable enough to be overcome by their own weariness; everyone except Harry and Cosette who both lay awake staring at the moldy ceiling.

"What do you think is written in those letters?" Cosette asked again quietly.

"I don't know…" Harry said wishing he knew the answer.

"Whoever they are they're certainly interested in contacting us, and the Dursleys must know them, otherwise they wouldn't go this far to prevent them from contacting us."

"Yeah…" Harry said absentmindedly.

Since his sister had pointed this out to him earlier it did nothing but pique his curiosity about the letters. It also depressed him more because he was sure Uncle Vernon's effort to go somewhere the letters wouldn't were not spent in vain. They were certainly well isolated despite the alarming nature of how the letters came. Harry felt sure that they would receive no letters while on this rock. He was almost inclined to row back across the water, abandoning the Dursley's on the island and find some place to spend the night just to see if he could read the letters in the morning, but as much as it pained him he seriously doubted his and Cosette's chances without at least the provisions the Dursley's gave. Out there without them they had even less than nothing but each other than with the Dursleys.

Cosette looked over at her cousin who was snoring loudly on the couch next to them, examining his wrist watch. It read 12:06 from what she could tell. She announced this to Harry who gave a weak smile.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

"Happy birthday, Cosette."

The two smiled weakly at each other, it was by far going to be one of the worst birthdays ever, even with their past birthdays with the Dursleys. Despite all this however, at the very least the two of them still had each other to comfort them.

"We best get some sleep. I don't suspect the Dursleys have a fun day planned for tomorrow," Cosette said with a sigh as she rolled over to a more comfortable position.

Harry followed suit trying to allow sleep to overtake him. It didn't work and there were several long minutes that seemed to be stretching into hours where he knew that neither he nor Cosette were asleep.

And then suddenly there was an enormous knock on the door, waking Dudley up instantly who whirled around to look at the door in alarm. Harry and Cosette shot to their feet as they heard a second knock, this one louder. Without thinking twice, Harry and Cosette ran to the small corner where the fireplace and wall of the shack met and hid quietly in the shadows. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exited the second room, both of them looking very fearfully at the door. Uncle Vernon was holding a shotgun in his shaky hands trying to keep a steady aim at the door. Then, there was a final loud knock as the door was knocked off its hinges and fell to the floor. Aunt Petunia let out a loud scream as Dudley ran to hide behind her, a rather meaningless effort considering the difference in girth between the two people. Uncle Vernon was still struggling to hold the shotgun steady.

An enormous man was crouching low to sidle through a door severely undersized for him; for he, by the looks of it, was twice as tall as an average man, and three times as wide, only a little wider than Uncle Vernon. His face was shadowed by the lightning behind him and his bushy mane of tangled hair as he stepped through the door ominously. Harry hoped that the man would not notice him or his sister hiding in the corner.

"'ello there, sorry abou' the door," he said as he bent over to pick up the door and shoved it roughly back into place where it stayed.

Uncle Vernon seemed to finally find his voice as he spoke to the man.

"I demand that you leave at once, we never asked for your company!" Uncle Vernon said loudly.

The giant walked over to Uncle Vernon who seemed to falter under the giant's glare.

"Ah, shut up Dursley, ya great prune."

As he said this, he yanked Uncle Vernon's shotgun from his hand and tied the thick metal in a neat knot and handed the useless gun back to Uncle Vernon. At this, Harry couldn't help but feel intrigued by the man. He knew the Dursleys so he wasn't a complete stranger. What's more is he didn't at all seem to like the Dursleys. The giant sat down on the couch which seemed to be the size of a comfortable armchair for him.

The giant surveyed the room as if looking for someone, his eyes fell on Dudley briefly but he continued to look around the room. He couldn't be looking for us could he? Harry thought to himself. Was he the mysterious return address of the letters? This question seemed to be answered as he asked in his loud booming voice.

"Where's the Potters? Where's Harry?"

Half curious to answer his questions, half sure that the giant was friendly from the way he treated the Dursleys, Harry slowly crept out of his hiding spot, his sister giving him petrified stares.

"I'm here…" he said simply, half petrified and half intrigued.

The giant man beamed at Harry and stood up, surveying Harry with a look of warm delight.

"Ah, Harry Potter, spittin' image of your father you are. Cept your eyes, you 'ave your mother's eyes," he said smiling widely. "I don' think ye'll remember me," the giant said in an almost nostalgic tone.

"Last time I saw ya I could hold ya in just one 'and."

Harry simply stared at the man unsure of what to say. What was he supposed to say, the man was absolutely right; he didn't have the vaguest memory of him. Apparently this man knew him when he was a baby, but it wasn't exactly a great conversation starter.

"I got sumthin' for yeh, 'fraid I might a sat on it at one point but I 'spect it will taste fine jus' the same," the man said as he reached into one of the many pockets in his moleskin overcoat and pulled out a small white cardboard box which he handed to Harry.

Harry accepted the box and peeled the lid back to find his first ever birthday cake, which also had Cosette's name sloppily placed on it in green icing next his own in blue. Harry couldn't help but feel grateful as he read the icing which said:

"Happy Birthday Harry and Cozette!"

It was one of the first kind things another person had ever done for him and his sister.

"Thank you!" Harry faltered somewhat as the man simply beamed back.

"Don' worry, it was nuthin'."

As he said this he sat himself back down and pulled out a frilled pink umbrella, flourished a bit and pointed it at the fire place where flames erupted from the tip, setting the fireplace ablaze. Harry stared in amazement, the Dursleys all shaking in the doorway to the second room; none of them seemed to want to even look at the giant man. The man on the other hand proceeded to pull things out of his pocket as if what he just did was the simplest most normal thing in the world. The first thing he pulled out of his pocket was some kind of cubic cage which he placed over the fire. He then took out a large frying pan and a paper package that he opened to reveal several sausages. He placed the frying pan on top of the square cage and unceremoniously placed several sausages in the pan which immediately began to sizzle. There was a long silence save the sizzling of the sausages which began to fill the shack with a warm smell, banishing the old moldy smell. After a while Harry finally broke the silence by asking a question he desperately wanted to know the answer to.

"Excuse me, who exactly are you?" he said placing the cake down.

"Rubeus Hagrid, keeper o' keys and grounds at Hogwarts," the man said not turning from the sausages. "Though everyone jus' calls me Hagrid. Though as the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, firs' name basis with students is fine too, don' think they 'spect me to be formal or nothin," he said as he thought over his own words.

"Course yeh know all 'bout Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head, still wondering who this man was. Hagrid looked rather alarmed and perplexed at Harry's response.

"No? Didn' ya ever wonder where you're mum and dad learned it all?"

Harry was both confused and intrigued. On one hand this man seemed to have known his parents, on the other he hadn't the foggiest idea of what he was talking about.

"Learn what?" Harry asked genuinely interested now.

"_Learn what?_" Hagrid said raising his voice slightly. "_Ya mean to say yeh don' know?_"

"Know what?" Harry said feeling as though he was repeating himself.

Hagrid turned sharply around to face the Dursleys who faltered slightly as his attention turned to them.

"_Dursleys!_" Hagrid bellowed standing up to his full intimidating height.

None of the Dursleys responded but Hagrid didn't seem to be waiting for an answer as he continued to yell at them.

"_Ye mean to say, ya never told Harry anythin', 'bout nuthin'?_" Hagrid bellowed.

"About what?" Harry asked desperately wishing that Hagrid would stop berating the Dursleys and just answer him.

Hagrid turned back to Harry surveying him with a rather wary gaze not at all unlike the one the man at the dock gave him.

"Gee, Dumbledore said there migh' be some trouble but I never 'spected that you wouldn' even know who you were, not when every child knows yer name."

At that moment Uncle Vernon seemed to have found his voice as he walked forward suddenly, shaking his head violently.

"I forbid you to say anything to him!" Uncle Vernon said quickly in a very strained voice. "We swore when we took them in we would put a stop to all this rubbish!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked growing impatient.

Hagrid glared venomously at the Dursleys, particularly Uncle Vernon who seemed to falter slightly from his gaze. He then turned back to Harry and cleared his throat, as if unsure where to begin.

"I forbid you to say anything more!" Uncle Vernon yelled now that the giant wasn't focused on him.

"Ah go boil yer heads," Hagrid said dismissively.

He looked down at Harry and said in a solemn voice,

"I guess the best way is to just tell yeh straight out."

"_No!"_ Uncle Vernon bellowed, but Hagrid was completely ignoring him.

"Listen 'arry, you're a wizard and Hogwarts is a school, where they teach ya how to use magic. That's the school your parents went to," he said simply.

Harry felt that this was a very anticlimactic answer because what Hagrid suggested was impossible.

"I'm a what now?"

Hagrid seemed to continue talking, not favoring Harry with an answer.

"I 'spect ye'll be a thumpin' good wizard too, once ye've trained up a bit. Also, I bet yer sister will be an excellent witch. "

Hagrid said sitting down as he pulled two small envelopes from one of his many pockets.

"Speakin' of which, where is yer sister?"

Harry immediately pointed to the corner by the fireplace where a terrified Cosette stood still hiding. Hagrid looked into the corner or several moments before he spotted Cosette in the shadows. He held the letter up.

"It's alright, I ain' gonna hurt yeh. I jus' came to make sure yeh received yer letter this time 'round."

Hagrid pulled a plate out of his pocket with his othr hand and tilted the sausages in the pan onto it.

"Why don' yeh come out, yer great puddin' of a cousin don' need no more fattenin' but it looks as though you could use some," he said gently.

Terrified beyond words, and wishing her brother had not told Hagrid where she was, Cosette slowly crept out from the corner, only taking a sausage once he saw Hagrid eat one. Harry followed suit and the three of them shared what was possibly the best meal in either Harry or Cosette's lives. Hagrid smiled at Cosette.

"Yeh look just like yer mother yeh do," Hagrid said smiling. "She was a quite a beauty like yerself."

Cosette looked up at Hagrid with a terrified and confused expression. Hagrid handed each of them one of the letters which Harry tore open eagerly. Harry was glad to finally read the letter even if the whole wizard thing was some form of an elaborate joke. He read his letter out loud as Cosette read hers silently.

"Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term starts September 1st. We expect your owl no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

Uncle Vernon marched up, shaking his head violently.

"He will not be going, neither of them will. We were sure a good thrashing would beat all this nonsense out of them, but we most certainly will not allow them to go learn this rubbish."

Hagrid seemed beyond livid with Uncle Vernon.

"_Not let Lily and James Potter's children learn magic? Ya have to be bleedin' yer brains out!"_

Uncle Vernon shirked back slightly as Aunt Petunia joined him by his side.

"They will not be going!" Aunt Petunia said in an unnaturally shrill voice. "We decided to thrash out any of this nonsense from my sister!"

Harry felt a sudden pang of anger as he looked up at his Aunt and Uncle, not very unusual but this anger was somewhat different than the anger he was used to feeling towards them.

"You knew!" he found himself with a slightly raised voice. "You knew this whole time and you never told me!"

Aunt Petunia suddenly looked down at him as if she had just noticed he was there.

"Of course we knew, how could we not?" Aunt Petunia said shrilly. "My dear sister was so proud the day she got her letter; our parents were also foolishly proud as it happens," Aunt Petunia said spitting her words venomously.

"We have a witch in the family! Of course however, I was the only one who saw her for what she was;_ a freak!" _Aunt Petunia continued. "And then she went and married that Potter man, and I knew from there that you two would be just as strange—just as—_abnormal. _And then if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we were landed with you two."

"Blown up?" Harry said feeling himself grow increasingly hot with anger as well as intrigued by curiosity at this statement. "You told me my parents died in a car crash!"

At this Hagrid coughed loudly and interrupted Harry.

"_A car crash? A car crash killed Lily and James Potter?"_ Hagrid said looking absolutely livid_. "You listen to me Dursleys, Lily and James Potter were two o' the finest sorcerers of their day, an' a car crash is the last thin' that could've got 'em!"_ Hagrid breathed, although he wasn't done.

Uncle Vernon's face was contorted and twisted in a way that made him look even more like a large red walrus than usual.

"They will not be going," He muttered miserably, refusing to meet Hagrid's intimidating gaze.

"_I suppose a great muggle like yerself is gonna stop him now are yeh?_"

Harry wondered what a muggle was, he quickly interrupted Hagrid's tirade to ask him.

"A muggle is what we wizards call non-magic folk, the opposite of a wizard is a muggle, yeh see?" Hagrid turned to survey the Dursleys once more. "And it's a bunch of rotten luck yeh was raised by the biggest bunch of muggles the world has ever seen."

Hagrid paused, staring coldly at the Dursleys.

"_Now yeh listen here Dursley, these two kids have had their names down ever since they were born, they'll be off to the finest wizarding school in the world and be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen; Albus Dumbledore!"_

"_I will not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach them magic tricks!" _Uncle Vernon said, managing to match the volume of Hagrid's voice.

At this, Hagrid's eyes seem to lose their warmth as they burned in rage. He picked up his umbrella and pointed it straight at Uncle Vernon's throat. This alone seemed to almost knock Uncle Vernon over. He looked threateningly at Uncle Vernon, rage still burning in his eyes and excitement building up in Harry's despite how he knew he should be feeling.

"_Never—Insult—Albus—Dumbledore—In Front—Of Me!" _Hagrid breathed, placing deadly emphasis on each syllable.

Hagrid pause for a moment in which the Dursleys tried their best to look brave as they cringed and sealed their eyes shut, bracing for what was to come. Hagrid looked down in the direction of a moist chewing noise which only now surfaced due to the silence that had fallen. In the corner, by the door to the second room of the hut Dudley was crouched over a small white cardboard box, his pudgy backside facing them; oblivious to the other people in the room as he greedily ate cake from the box. Hagrid seemed to change his mind almost instantly , he flung the umbrella around to point at Dudley.

There was a loud noise not unlike a whip crack as violet light shot out the end of Hagrid's umbrella, striking Dudley's bottom which made him jump in surprise as he clutched his bottom. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia heard their son's cry and their eyes shot open as they ran over to him trying to pry his hands from his bottom to see what Hagrid had done.

Poking out a small hole in Dudley's trousers was an unmistakable curly pink pig's tail. All the Dursleys panicked frantically as they yelled at each other in frantic desperation for the other to do something. Eventually they all filed clumsily into the second room still yelling. Uncle Vernon shot a deadly look at Hagrid before slamming the door shut, muffling the noise only slightly.

Hagrid sat down on the couch again, causing it to sag under his weight as he shook his head.

"That was brilliant!" Harry said immediately.

"It didn' work right. I meant to turn him into a pig, yeh see. Guess he was already so much of a pig only the tail came out."

Despite this, Hagrid seemed somewhat flattered in a way as Harry continued to stare in amazement. At this moment of silence, Cosette finally spoke up; Harry jumped slightly as he almost forgot she was there.

"Err… I have a question."

"Yes?" Hagrid said curiously.

Cosette seemed very fearful at the moment but she continued despite how flustered she was.

"What exactly does it mean in the letter when it says it expects our owl?"

At this, Hagrid slapped his forehead as if he was just reminded of something vitally important.

"Ah that reminds me, Dumbledore will be wantin' to know what's happened!" he said as he quickly drew out a quill and ink bottle, shortly followed by a small piece of parchment.

He wrote on the parchment a very short letter that Harry could barely read in Hagrid's scrawled hand writing.

Deer Professor Dumbledore,

I just met up with the twins and gave them theree letters.

I'll be taking them to London to get ther stuff tommorrow.

Hope your well,

Hagrid

Hagrid then rolled up the parchment and replaced the quill and ink bottle in one of his many pockets. He then pulled a barn owl out of another pocket and placed the parchment under its beak which it took eagerly, as if glad to be out of Hagrid's pocket. He then went over to the window and opened it and let the owl fly out into the rain. He then closed the window and went back over to the couch like what he just did was the most normal thing in the world. It was in that moment that Harry realized what the letter meant when it said they were awaiting their owl. That's how wizards sent mail and notices to each other, via owl.

"We best get some sleep, lots to do tomorrow," Hagrid said yawning, but Harry didn't feel at all sleepy; on the contrary, he felt quite awake.

There was so much he wanted to ask Hagrid, about Hogwarts, the wizarding world, and most of all his parents. However, Harry realized it would have to wait till morning since after all Hagrid did seem very tired from his trip here, and he needed sleep just as much as anyone else. Hagrid took off his moleskin coat and spread it out in front of the fire.

"You can sleep there," he said motioning to the coat. "Don't mind if it wriggles a bit, I 'spect I might have some dormice in there," Hagrid's voice was tired as he slumped deeper into the couch, causing it to creak horribly.

Harry looked at Cosette, who remained silent. He began talking excitedly to her about these newly surfaced revelations, particularly the existence of the wizarding world; however Cosette remained rather quiet and unenthusiastic contrary to Harry's mood. Harry didn't seem to take much notice of Cosette's quiet tone as he continued to whisper.

"…What do you think Hogwarts is like?" Harry asked Cosette eagerly.

"I don't know…" Cosette replied, looking at her brother with a mixture a fear and concern, that he didn't seem to pick up on.

"Hagrid said it's the greatest wizarding school in the world! It has to be something else; then again anything's better than the Dursleys."

"Isn't greatest school in the world rather um…biased?"

"Maybe…" Harry shrugged. "But for someone to say something like that it must be amazing."

"I guess…"

"Hagrid said he'll be taking us to get our school things tomorrow, I wonder what sort of things we'll need."

"Set of Hogwarts robes, a wand, and a cauldron, and some other stuff."

"How did you know?" Harry asked amazed.

"I read the school list that came with the letter."

"Oh…" Harry said, feeling rather stupid.

"It also says we can bring an owl, a cat, or a toad," Cosette continued somewhat seriously. "But all this brings up the question; how are we going to pay for all this? Uncle Vernon said he's not going to pay any tuition and I doubt even more he'd spend money on magic supplies."

Harry's heart sank, in the bliss of the moment he had completely forgot about all these worrisome things. Cosette gave Hagrid a nervous glance noting that he was snoring loudly before continuing.

"I was also wondering whether or not it would be smart to trust Hagrid."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked taken aback.

"Well think about it, we just met him less than an hour ago…"

"So?"

"And in that time he has shown us a few magic tricks and tried to explain to us how magic is real, to me something fishy is going on. He didn't even explain how he knew our parents, it seems all too convenient given our present situation with the Dursleys and I feel like we'd be acting gullible if we just accepted what he said."

At this Harry gave an immediate rebuttal.

"But the Dursleys didn't deny anything he said, they agreed! It's why they said they hate us so much; and besides, it's just like them not to want us to go off somewhere to be happy. This explains why the Dursleys were so desperate to keep us from getting those letters, and how they were able to appear in the way they did."

Cosette looked fearful; she wasn't sure what to say to her brother who seemed convinced Hagrid was trustworthy.

"But all this seems a bit too strange. We just met Hagrid," Cosette whispered rather desperately.

"And he's proven himself better than the Dursleys, and we've known the Dursleys our whole lives!" Harry said in a tone that seemed to make him feel he had just settled the argument.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you," Cosette said desperately to Harry. "Or me…" she added as an afterthought.

"Nothing is going to happen to either of us," Harry said reassuringly.

"How do you know, we just met Hagrid and your saying we should just leave with him tomorrow."

Harry shook his head, growing weary of the dispute at hand and as a result losing his awake-feeling.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow," he said as lay down on Hagrid's coat, which was very comfortable, acting a spongy mattress and thick quilt all in one, even if it did smell bad.

Cosette sulkily agreed and hesitantly dropped down into Hagrid's coat. The two of them slowly fell asleep much more comfortable than before, in Hagrid's thick coat, by the warm fire.


	5. Into Gringotts

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Into Gringotts

Harry awoke the next morning because of the chilly morning air that swept over him. He stirred slightly and curled up against the offending draft and huddled next to his sister, who responded much in the same way. They were rather used to waking up to nippy weather, so Harry had ignored it at first and tried to fall back to sleep. It wasn't until he heard the loud fog horn of a snore that Harry realized they weren't underneath the stairs.

His eyes snapped open in an instant and he immediately felt around for his glasses. His mind cleared up as soon as he placed his glasses on and he was able to see his surroundings. Slowly memories started to return to him of the previous night as he peered around the dilapidated shack. It hadn't all been a dream? Harry insistently began shaking his sister awake. She groaned at his persistent shoving and slowly opened her eyes.

"Cosette!" Harry whispered.

"What?" Cosette's voice was gruff and horse in the morning as she shifted to look at her brother.

She also didn't seem to realize they weren't at home, and when her eyes opened, she immediately sat up. The timing was punctuated by another voracious snore, which caused both twins to jump.

"Is that…" Cosette mumbled in confusion, "Did last night really happen?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Yeah, it did."

Both of them were silent for the longest time; only the sounds of Hagrid's deep breath and loud snores emanated in the hut.

"Harry…" Cosette started hesitantly, biting her lip. "Do you really think this is a good idea…?"

Harry gave a slight groan in frustration.

"Cosette, do we really have much choice? Think about it, everything Hagrid said makes sense; why we have always been able to do strange things, about our parents…everything."

"I know, I know," Cosette said, "But still, I don't think it's a good idea to trust him... we only just met him…"

"Cosette, would you rather stay here with the Dursleys?"

"No!" Cosette said abruptly, a little too loud.

Hagrid snorted and rolled over, making Cosette shirk back slightly.

"No," Cosette repeated in a quieter tone. "But honestly, a giant hairy man breaks down the door and tells us he's going to take us away to a magical school? Doesn't that sound…?"

Harry was about to respond, but held his tongue when he saw the nervous look his sister kept throwing the burly giant.

"You're afraid, aren't you?"

Cosette didn't respond, but her eyes dropped from Hagrid to the floor. Harry crept closer and took her hand in his. Her eyes shifted from the floor immediately to their hands. Her eyes then rose to his. He gave her a small smile.

"It's going to be all right," Harry said, giving her hand a tight squeeze. "We're in this together."

"Promise?" Cosette asked, looking pleadingly at him.

"Promise."

Cosette's fear alleviated somewhat from the night before by the time Hagrid got up and greeted the morning.

"Mornin'," Hagrid said gruffly as he sat up, helping himself to a cold sausage from the night before. "Help yerselve's to some of the sausages, they ain't that bad cold."

Harry and Cosette, who were always half starved, gratefully finished all the sausages. They had quickly gotten up and left the little broken down shack before the Dursley's even knew they were gone. The only proof that they even left was the fact that Hagrid didn't bother to replace the door back on its hinges, and just left it laying flat on the floor by the doorpost.

Hagrid stepped out blinking in the bright sunshine, not a cloud was in the sky from the night before. Hagrid was looking around when he spotted the twins behind him.

"Ah, by the way, I'd 'preciate it if you didn' mention any of the magic I did at Hogwarts," Hagrid said somewhat nervously. "Strictly speakin' I'm not supposed to use any magic."

Harry was rather curious to why Hagrid wasn't allowed to use magic, while Cosette seemed rather disinterested. Rather she was wondering about getting off the island and getting to London.

"Why aren't you allowed to use magic?"

"I was expelled from Hogwarts," Hagrid said rather sheepishly. "Could you… not mention it to anyone?"

Harry was interested to know more but felt it might be rude to press the subject and simply nodded his head.

Hagrid smiled and walked down to the boat.

"Can't use magic to get off the island."

"How did you travel to the island the first time around?" Harry asked eagerly as he walked down to the boat, Cosette following behind her brother nervously.

"Flew," Hagrid said nonchalantly.

Harry stared amazed, trying to imagine someone as large as Hagrid flying through the air. Hagrid climbed into the boat which sank terribly to the point where water trickled over the rim. Both of the twins looked apprehensively at the boat. Hagrid easily picked up on their concern and glanced nervously at them.

"Erm… do ye mind if I use a bit more magic?"

"Not at all!" Harry replied eagerly, wanting to see more magic.

Hagrid seemed somewhat relieved that Harry didn't mind him using magic as he took out his umbrella and tapped the boat which emptied of water and rose up to its proper buoyancy. Harry clambered into the boat, his twin still following hesitantly as Hagrid tapped the side of the boat causing it to take off like a motorboat to the shore. Cosette gasped in surprise, as the boat took off at its alarming speed.

Hagrid took them to a small country train station, much to Harry's disappointment, since he was looking forward to seeing more magic. Hagrid achieved many stares from different people walking by. Harry could hardly blame them; after all, he parted the crowd by far the easiest out of everyone there and seemed rather confused with the workings of what he called "muggle" money. As they traveled to London on the train, Hagrid had begun to knit what looked like a large yellow tea cozy for a watermelon. Harry meanwhile had taken to looking over the list that came with his letter.

"Erm… Hagrid," Harry said as his eyes skimmed the necessary school supplies. "How exactly are me and Cosette supposed to pay for all this stuff? We don't have any money, and you heard Uncle Vernon, he won't pay for anything."

A gruff chuckle escaped the giant.

"Don' worry 'bout that," Hagrid reassured. "Yer money's safe in Gringotts Bank. You didn' really think' yer parents left you with nothin', did yeh?"

This statement caught both twins by surprise. They had money! This is something they knew the Dursleys must not have known about for if they did they would have pocketed anything in the vault, even if it was in some form of a wizard's bank. Harry eagerly pressed Hagrid for questions about the bank and other workings of the wizarding world. Hagrid seemed quite amused by this and was happy to explain all of Harry's queries.

"What's Gringotts?"

"It's a wizard's bank."

"Wizards have banks?"

"Jus' one, Gringotts. It's run by goblins, yeh'd be mad to try and rob it."

"Goblins!"

"Yeah, one thing to always keep in mind Harry is to never mess with goblins. Oh they're friendly enough, in a very business-like way, but getting' on the wrong side of a goblin could be the last thin' you do."

Harry eagerly pressed Hagrid with more questions. It was only when they began to achieve stares on the train, and shortly off it when they reached London that Hagrid told Harry to stop asking questions for the time being. Harry had already learned quite a lot from Hagrid, and so did his sister who remained quiet, but observant. Cosette clung rather nervously to Harry as they made their way to the London underground, she too had learned quite a lot from her brother's conversation but she didn't seem to have taken the same eager spark with the giant as Harry did.

The group resurfaced onto a busy main road somewhere in downtown London. It was then another problem stuck Harry. He hurried to keep pace with Hagrid causing Cosette to have to keep up in a brisk walk since she so fervently refused to leave her brother.

"Hagrid…" Harry asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Hmm?" Hagrid responded peering back at the twins.

"Is it possible to find everything on the list here?"

"If yeh know where to go."

Harry didn't find this answer substantial because he could not think of any of the various music stores, book stores, or restaurants selling cauldrons or magic wands. As they traveled down the winding roads of London, they finally came to stand before a single wooden door. The sign hanging above the door was rather crooked and faded, but the words _The Leaky Cauldron _were easily discernable. Harry watched as window shoppers passed by, looking from the jeweler's store on one side of the grubby door and then directly to the bakery on the other side. Harry looked around at the shoppers of Charring Cross Road and felt an eerie feeling as though they could not see the door; Harry knew he wouldn't have noticed the door if Hagrid had not pointed it out to him.

"This is the ol' Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place!" Hagrid told them as he walked forward towards the door.

For a famous place it certainly didn't look it. The place was dark with a heavy smoke in the air that seemed to suffocate one with the smell of burnt fungus. The grubby worn down pub seemed to have very few patrons, a couple of witches were drinking sherry in the corner and one of them was smoking a large pipe which seemed to be the source of the heavy smoke. Several customers were seated at the bar dressed in the oddest assortment of clothing. One of them was talking with the bald bartender who was quite old and missing all his teeth.

"Oy, Hagrid," the man behind the counter called out, hardly missing Hagrid's large form. "Usual, I presume?" he said as he grabbed a tankard that Harry noticed to be much larger than the ones of the other patrons.

Hagrid shook his head.

"Nah, not t'day Tom. I'm on official Hogwarts business. Gotta get the two Potters to Diagon Alley to get school supplies."

At the mention of their names, the bartender's face paled. With his mouth gaping open, he turned to stare at them. Cosette shied under the attention and tried hiding further behind her brother.

"Bless me soul," he barely uttered, eyes fixing on Harry before growing wide. "It's Harry Potter!"

All of a sudden, the entire bar went silent. Soon every set of eyes in the room turned towards them in amazement. Harry gulped; unsure of what he should anticipate but Hagrid simply gave an encouraging wink. Hagrid gestured for them to follow him, as if not a thing was different. Quickly Harry followed, Cosette gripping his shirt for dear life.

At the table closest to them, a man's hand shot out and feverishly began shaking his so hard Harry thought his hand would fall off.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir!"

Harry gave the man a confused look, trying his best to act polite before pulling his hand away, only to once again have it grabbed by another enthusiastic character. The silence was all at once filled with quiet murmurs. Harry was rather bewildered by all of the praise he was getting. He hadn't walked three steps before more people were "welcoming him back," and feverishly shaking his hand. Harry soon realized that the entire pub had got to their feet and formed a line to shake his hand. It wasn't long before Harry had shook hands with everyone in the pub, and found others coming back for repeated handshakes in bewildered and excited state. A man in a violet top hat named Dedalus Diggle, an old witch with a glass eye that kept falling into her drink named Doris Crockford. There was also a very well-polished looking man that seemed to make the other patrons very nervous. Harry couldn't understand why, he seemed polite and friendly as he introduced himself as Vito Castogiovanni Andreachi. He briefly explained that he had been shopping for Hogwarts in "Diagon Alley". He then went on to enthusiastically explain that he had two sons that attended the school. Cosette viewed all of this with a bit of unease, unsure why her brother suddenly got so much attention. At the Dursleys, no one paid more attention to either of them any more than they had to.

"H-h-h-ha-rry P-p-pott-ter," a stuttering voice addressed him. Harry turned to see a curious man standing nervously by the counter, most distinguished by the large plum colored turban on his head.

"P'rfessor Quirrell! Almost didn' see ya there," Hagrid greeted the man.

He quickly turned to face the twins.

"Kids, this is one of yer p'rfessors. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

Harry, excited about the prospect of meeting a future teacher, eagerly smiled and reached out a hand to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, sir."

Quirrell's eyes shifted nervously to his outstretched hand and involuntarily seemed to flinch, but didn't return the gesture.

"P-pleas-sure is a-all m-mi-mine," Quirrell stuttered as his eyes darted towards the scar on his forehead, an almost hungry look in his eyes.

Harry was reasonably unnerved by this and brushed as much hair as he could to cover his scar, though this did not seem to stop Quirrell's unnerving gaze.

It was only when Harry turned his head to the floor that Quirrell's eyes regained their nervous nature. He shifted his gaze immediately from Harry then to Cosette, where his eyes grew slightly wide.

"And y-you t-too, erm…?" Quirrell said as if unsure of how to address Harry's sister.

Cosette shirked back immediately. His eyes frightened her, and she visibly tensed.

"Cosette," Harry supplied her name when she failed to respond with any sort of greeting.

C-c-cos-s-sette," The man's poorly constructed grasp of her name made her feel odd.

She felt unnerved and uncomfortable in his presence.

"We best be off now," Hagrid broke in, making Cosette relax slightly when the professor's eyes shifted from her to Hagrid.

He started walking, Harry giving a small wave good-bye to the teacher and to the people who were whispering and calling their farewells. They came to a backdoor and once again, Hagrid fit himself through it. In front of them stood a brick wall; the door apparently leading towards a dead end.

"See Harry, yer famous! Even P'rfesser Quirrell was shaking to meet yeh. Mind you though, he's always shaking, poor bloke…"

"What happened to him?" Harry asked feeling a combination of pity and curiosity.

"Well ye see Harry, P'rfesser Quirrel was a brilliant wizard in his younger days, they said he could take on anythin'. While travelin' though it's said he had a couple of nasty run-ins with some hags and got caught up with a vampire. Certainly left an effect on him, always paranoid that the vampire from his travels will come back."

Harry looked back at the door to the Leaky Cauldron, feeling even sorrier for Quirrell. Cosette on the other hand didn't seem to think that these encounters with vampires and hags were a reason to pity him, but rather avoid him more. Though she didn't voice her opinion, and she was more curious about her brother's new found fame, and why they were standing in a dingy rubbish pit.

"Uhm, Hagrid?" Harry asked nervously, "What exactly was all that about anyway? How do all those people know me?" Cosette was glad her brother voiced one of her questions since she wasn't particularly interested in addressing anyone if she could avoid it.

Hagrid looked rather nervously at Harry.

"Geez Harry, I keep on forgettin' how little ye know…" He trailed of as if not sure where to begin his next statement.

"Why?" Harry asked even more intrigued by Hagrid's tone.

"I'm not sure I'm the best one to tell you that…"

There was a long solemn silence where no words were exchanged and Hagrid and Harry simply looked at each other. Cosette looked eagerly between them, wishing for someone to at least say something so she could figure out the answers to her questions herself. Hagrid finally broke the silence with a loud cough as he pulled out his umbrella.

"We best be movin' on, I'll talk to yeh about this later," Hagrid said as he tapped the wall with his umbrella.

Harry wanted to press for more, but at that instance, the bricks in front of them began to grumble and vibrate. Slowly the bricks began to turn and move, shift and slowly separate from each other, creating a walking passageway into a narrow, cobbled street beyond. The twins marveled at the narrow street which was crowded with people, and rudely bordered by many crooked buildings that seemed to lean inwards towards the center of the street.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid announced with a broad grin, stepping through the passage.

The twins were both in awe at the many display windows which were not at all like the ones in the London Street outside the front door of the Leaky Cauldron. People dressed in robes and other bizarre clothing were making their way this way and that on their various shopping schemes. The shops were displaying a whole range of items Harry felt a rather sore urge to buy. One window had a display of mannequins wearing a whole range of elegant robes, and seemed to move and fawn in the window front to passer-byes. Another had a window full of nothing but books, shiny leather bound books with glossy covers and gleaming silver and gold letters. Harry saw Cosette walk over to this store and eagerly press her nose against the window, as if trying to read the titles of some of the books. Harry looked at another store that didn't have a display window, rather a series of cages hanging from its rafters and awning. Harry's mouth fell open when he saw the contents of the cages, full grown owls, of all shapes and sizes. Their majestic presence didn't seem to have the same effect on the other shoppers in the area. Harry looked up at the sign hanging above the shop's door which read _'Eyelop's Owl emporium and Magical Menagerie'_. A sign hung below this one which listed of a set of different animals and breeds.

Harry was about to turn to look at another shop that seemed to sell well polished brooms of some sort when Hagrid called to him and Cosette. Cosette seemed to have temporarily have forgotten where she was up to that point and fearfully rushed to regroup with Harry and the two followed Hagrid.

"We can look at the shops later, firs' stop is Gringotts," he said pointing ahead.

The cobbled path before them twisted haphazardly to the left, and wedged comfortably in the corner of this turn was an enormous marble building. Elegant and bold, Gringotts put the surrounding buildings to shame. Harry was rather awestruck by the building. As they walked towards it, Harry pressed Hagrid for more answers.

"What exactly is the bank like?"

"Well, it's by far the safest place in the world… 'cept perhaps Hogwarts. Still it's an excellent place for gaurdin' yer valuables. It's a labyrinth under the building that goes several miles down yeh see? Only the goblins who run the place really know their way around. So the problem ain't getting in to steal something, the problem is getting out once yeh have," Hagrid explained.

"Miles underground?" Harry said in awe.

"Yeah, and they say they have dragons guardin' the higher security vaults, not to mention all sorts of security enchantments. You'd be mad to try an' rob it."

"Dragons?" Harry said somewhat fearfully, he didn't like the prospect of going into a dark underground tunnel potentially full of dragons.

Cosette didn't seem to like the idea either, but Hagrid seemed to like the prospect very much indeed.

"Yeah, god I'd love to have me my own dragon…" Hagrid said longingly as they continued to force their way through the crowd.

"You want a dragon?" Harry said somewhat confused.

"Yeah…" Hagrid replied wistfully.

As much as Harry didn't like the prospect of meeting a dragon in one of the tunnels, he at least had confidence enough in Hagrid, and the sheer fact that it was a bank that seemed well trusted to put his fears aside. Cosette however, as she had the entire trip, was clinging desperately to Harry's shirt. Since her grip was constantly tight Harry didn't seem to notice too much though.

"I should warn yeh, goblins are clever creatures; and guard others valuables just as much as their own; but as clever as they come they aren't the most friendly of beasts. Best stay close."

Harry nodded but this warning did nothing but intrigue him more about the goblins. As they reached the marble steps of the bank Harry saw a pair of wide bronze doors, and dressed in a crimson uniform in front of the door, standing no more than four feet tall was what was unmistakably a goblin. The goblin gave a cold smile and bowed low as he opened the bronze doors to allow the three of them to enter. Harry found himself in a short marble hallway, dimly lit by a dusty chandelier. At the opposite end of the hallway were a set of silver doors, with an inscription on them.

"Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed.

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there."

"Told yeh ya would have to be mad to rob it," Hagrid said pointing to the inscription.

Another pair of goblins, this time in purple uniforms, bowed as the trio approached the doors and opened them to allow entrance. The group entered into a cavernous dimly lit hall full of activity. Rows of tall desks aligned either side of the hall, with a pair of large gold doors at the end. Several wooden doors aligned the other walls. Perched precariously on top of high stools by the many desks were more goblins, who were acting as bank tellers for the wizards in front of them, weighing large gold coins on brass scales, or inspecting gemstones the size of chicken eggs. Everyone seemed busy with something; it was a very different experience than walking into the Leaky Cauldron where everyone noticed Harry as soon as his presence was announced. Harry had to say he enjoyed the fact that people seemed to notice him less, he didn't like the prospect of having to shake everyone's hand in here. The Leaky Cauldron's patrons were bad enough.

Harry and Cosette closely followed Hagrid, Cosette seemed much more nervous about their surroundings than Harry. They came to a halt by a bank teller who was writing notes in an enormous book. Hagrid was about to speak but the Goblin cut him off.

"How may I help you?" he asked without looking up from his work.

"Oh…" Hagrid said taken by surprise from the goblin's sudden speech.

The goblin did not speak or respond. He seemed to think it didn't matter how much Hagrid faltered since he was still writing notes and therefore was not being interrupted by Hagrid. Harry felt a small twinge of dislike for the goblin's dismissive nature.

"Ah, well Mr. Harry Potter and his sister would like to make a withdrawal," Hagrid said finally finding his voice.

The goblin looked up, an expression of mild interest beginning to show in his hard pointed face. He peered over the edge of his desks down at the twins, Cosette shirking back slightly. Harry did not like the goblin in the slightest; he seemed to constantly wear an expression of cold bitterness and had a gaze devoid of any warmth. Very different, Harry noted, than Hagrid or anyone else they had met so far. The goblin surveyed the twins, as if trying to tell if they were real.

"Do they have their key?" the goblin said slowly as he returned his gaze to Hagrid.

Hagrid seemed again taken aback by being addressed by the goblin.

"Ah, hold on, got it here somewhere."

The goblin's lips thinned in annoyance as he surveyed Hagrid's many pockets which he began to fish through. Hagrid emptied several things from his pockets onto the goblin's book which did nothing to help the goblin's foul mood. Three dormice, a large rat, balls of hay, a bottle of some form of alcohol and a small oily wooden box that smelled very foul. The goblin scrunched up his nose in disgust. Finally Hagrid pulled a tiny golden key from his pocket.

"There we are!" he said presenting it to the goblin and pushing the other items back into his pockets.

The goblin still did not seem pleased at all as he looked over the key.

"Everything seems to be in order…" he said somewhat grudgingly.

"There's somethin' else too," Hagrid said to the goblin who was about to beckon another goblin over.

The goblin paused still wearing an annoyed expression.

"P'rfessor Dumbledore gave me this," he handed a well wrapped envelope to the goblin.

The goblin seemed more intrigued by this as he opened the envelope. He read through the paper and looked up at Hagrid.

"Very well," he said placing the letter aside and looking suspiciously at Harry and Cosette.

Harry felt a twinge of curiosity about the contents of the letter, but was rather scared to ask Hagrid anything with the goblin eyeing him.

"Griphook!" the goblin yelled beckoning over an unusually short goblin with black hair.

"Yes?" Griphook said simply as he walked over.

"Take the Potter twins to vault 687 so they can make a withdrawal," the goblin said to Griphook. "And then take Dumbledore's assistant here to vault 713 so that he can take its contents to its owner."

Griphook gave a short nod in response to the other goblin and began walking towards one of the wooden doors without any indication that they were meant to follow. Hagrid, who seemed to have more experience with dealing with goblins; immediately made to keep up with Griphook, shortly followed by Harry and Cosette.

Griphook approached one of the wooden doors and opened them. As they walked into the passage, Harry was surprised to see it was not made of more marble, but rather made of naturally formed granite and limestone. As they entered the passage the door closed sharply behind them, leaving the group in pitch black darkness. Cosette jumped slightly at this and both twins felt Hagrid's shovel like hands pushing them forward.

"Stay close now," he said in a hushed whisper.

Harry couldn't see how they could navigate their way ahead as they walked forward and Cosette was beyond petrified, only dwelling on thoughts of the dragons, goblins, and Hagrid who she was still unnerved by. The group walked following Griphook's sharp footsteps. The cavern sloped downwards, all while twisting and turning in different directions. Finally a small sliver of orange light was visible. As they turned more corners the light grew brighter until they were in a dimly lit cavernous chamber with giant stalactites and stalagmite hanging from ceiling and protruding from the floor.

Before them was a large mining cart on rusted metal rails. The rail traveled down into the dark corridors of the cavern. It struck Harry as some form of a medieval subway system as carts were stopping behind one another from the left, and wizards and goblins alike were getting off of them. At the same time, there were small groups of wizards and goblins boarding the carts and taking off through the forward passage to the right. They could still hear the echoing drips of water and the groaning of the metal cart as they approached. The small goblin teetered towards the rails and hooked a lantern over the edge. Hagrid, without hesitating, climbed over the edge of the cart. It groaned and moaned in protest and the twins were left standing in fear, wondering if the thing wouldn't lose what little stability it had and fall into the cavernous depths below.

After Hagrid beckoned them forward, Harry took the lead, dragging Cosette with him. Uncertainly they got in with him just as Griphook pulled a lever starting the cart just as Cosette managed to get her foot inside the cart. The machine began to cringe and move. Terrified, Cosette leapt over towards her brother and clung to him. Harry gripped her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at him and he gave her a small smile. She returned it sheepishly, sitting up and lessening her grip.

The thing took off with gusto. The breath was taken out of the twins before they even had time to speak. Harry had never been on a rollercoaster before, but he was sure this would rival many of them that Dudley would go on and on about. Looking over at Hagrid, both shared nervous glances at the slight green look on his face. The railway was winding and steep. Sharp turns caused the twins to sway this way and that within the small cart. Cosette bit back a squeal and Harry tried to hold back a smile. Hagrid seemed to be getting sicker and sicker as the cart pelted on. He began to grumble uncomfortably and the twins feared he would hurl over the edge of the cart. They shifted nervously to avoid any potential sick from landing on them.

When the ride came to a halt, it was so sudden, that the twins actually careened forward and crashed into Hagrid. Hagrid didn't seem happy about this, as his stomach lurched and he groaned. Both twins looked in horror at the prospect of becoming on the receiving end of Hagrid's stomach contents.

Griphook jumped over the end, grabbing the lantern and approaching a large iron door.

"Vault 687," he announced.

Harry and Cosette were the next to get out. Harry had a small smile on his face as he helped out his sister. Hagrid was the last to get off, holding onto the edge of the cart as he climbed over.

"Key please," Giphook asked.

Hagrid lumbered over, breathing heavily and handed over the key.

There was a series of loud clicking noises before a loud groaning as the door slowly opened. Curiously, the twins peered in and were slightly blinded. There, inside the vault were countless piles upon piles of golden coins. The two gaped in awe at the sight of the load of money, not believing what they were seeing.

"Told yeh yer parents wouldn't leave yeh with nothin'."

Hagrid's voice echoed from behind them, yet neither of them answered. He approached them and began pointing out the pillars of coins. It was only after he explained the difference between knuts, sickles and galleons did the twins realize that not all of the coins were large and gold, and some were small bits of silver and bronze.

"See, there are 17 sickles to a galleon, and 29 knuts to a sickle?" Hagrid briefly explained.

With some bit of confusion, the twins collaborated with each other over an appropriate amount to withdraw. They pocketed their share and once again climbed into the cart. Hagrid was the one who did so reluctantly this time.

"Can we go a bit slower this time?" Hagrid asked the goblin.

"One speed only," Griphook said simply.

Once the cart began the move again, the twins were more prepared and grabbed onto the edge to prevent rocking back and forth.

Again the cart stopped in front of a large door. The twins went to jump out, but Hagrid stalled them. Looking rather pale and weak, and gave them a stern look.

"You two stay in here," he said cryptically.

Heaving a moan, he got over the edge, the cart swaying dangerously as he did so.

"Stand back!" Griphook's voice was somewhat louder and more pronounced.

Approaching the door, the small goblin ran his hand against the detailed iron frame. The twins noted that the design on the door was somewhat different than the one they were at before. There must have been a difference in the locking system, they assumed. Harry stared in amazement as the door slowly began to melt into a vaporous form. Very slowly this vapor cleared, leaving a large hole in the wall. The twins looked anxiously, trying to get a glimpse inside the vault without getting out of their seat. It was impossible however to see inside the vault in the darkness. All they could make out was Hagrid's large form stumbling into the vault and grabbing a small package which he quickly shoved into one of his enormous pockets. As he got back towards the cart, he patted his pocket and gave the twins a questioning look.

"I'd 'preciate it if yeh pretended yeh didn' know 'bout this," Hagrid said.

Harry gave a quick nod and agreed, and Cosette only stared at Hagrid, who didn't seem to notice her lack of response. Slowly, Griphook climbed back into the cart and the cart once again zoomed off back towards the entrance.


	6. Ollivanders

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Ollivanders

Hagrid was even more unpleasant on the ride to the surface than he was the ride going down. Harry and Cosette kept on giving him nervous glances as he choked and gagged, worried he would have otherwise upheaved. His face took on a rather unpleasant green shade and the only one who didn't seem remotely concerned in any fashion was Griphook, whom kept his word when he said, "One speed only."

By the time they had actually arrived at the surface, Hagrid said he needed a few minutes for his stomach to settle, much to Griphook's annoyance. The twins and Griphook stood in the dimly lit cavern as they waited for Hagrid to get out of the cart. Griphook seemed rather impatient while Harry was somewhat concerned for Hagrid's wellbeing. Cosette on the other hand seemed rather anxious to get back to the book store from earlier, and was somewhat disinterested in Hagrid. Since she was still skeptical of him, she would rather simply leave Hagrid but she dare not leave her brother. All in all, there was an uncomfortable tension in the group that wasn't helped by the fact that neither the twins nor Griphook seemed to like each other very much.

Finally Hagrid clambered out of the cart, steadying himself with heavy breaths. Griphook immediately took off to leave, again giving no indication that they were meant to follow. When they exited Gringotts, Hagrid was still a little green. They had only walked a few steps down the path before Hagrid turned to the twins.

"You both will be alright fer a bit while gettin' yer robes, right? I think I might be in a lil' need for a pick-me-up at the Leaky cauldron after that cart…"

Hagrid pointed down the winding street to the shop that showed the fawning mannequins. The sign over head read _Madam_ _Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. _Feeling bad for Hagrid, Harry nervously looked back at Cosette before nodding. Hagrid lumbered off and the twins were left to uncertainly enter the dress shop.

The shop was rather busy, as customers were browsing the many aisles and racks of wizarding robes of all different colors and styles. As they were taking it all in, wondering where and how they were supposed to find the proper school uniform, they were approached by a short, round woman decked in mauve.

"Ey! Two more students need to be dressed for robes?" she said enthusiastically.

"Er, yes. Hogwarts," Harry responded.

The woman smiled.

"I'm Madam Malkin, and we'd best suit you two up, we've got one other boy being measured up as well this moment," she said, her eyes slowly sizing up the twins, as if trying to decide their sizes without the aid of measuring tape.

"Boy's robes are over there; my assistant will be with you. Girl's robes are this way, follow me, dearie."

Cosette looked pained at the idea of splitting up with her brother, but both understood the need to be separate. Rather timidly, Cosette let go of her brother's shirt and followed Madam Malkin towards the opposite direction she pointed Harry to. The twins shared a brief glance as she was carted away before Harry followed Malkin's directions.

Just as she had said, he wasn't the only boy to be fitted. Standing on a stool was another pale boy with platinum blonde hair and a rather pointed face. A witch was at his tails pinning his black robes. When the boy noted him in the large mirrored wall, he turned slightly, careful not to move as the witch adjusted his robes. He gave him a tentative once over, eyes scrutinizing him in a very uncomfortable manner. A few moments later, another witch stopped up and ushered Harry onto a stool next to the boy.

"Hogwarts too, I presume?" the boy said, though it took a few seconds for Harry to realize he was addressing him.

"Erm, yes," Harry answered, becoming partially blinded as the witch threw a black robe over his head.

The boy's head leaned back as he began to talk in a drawling manner.

"My father's next door getting my books, and mother is looking into wands," he said in a rather bored manner.

His face suddenly shifted to an angry grimace.

"I can't believe they don't allow first years to bring their own broom, rather ridiculous, don't you think? Either way, I'm thinking about convincing father to buy me one anyway. I'm sure I can find some way to smuggle it into the school."

His attitude reminded him slightly of Dudley; the doted upon, spoiled kid who always got what he wanted from his parents by throwing a fit. Harry however didn't voice these opinions.

"What about you?" the boy questioned, and Harry didn't really know what the boy wanted him to say.

"Ow! Witch! Watch what you're doing!" he suddenly howled, glaring down at the seamstress, who seemed to cower under his look and uttered several apologies.

When the woman began again, more careful this time, he turned back to Harry.

"A broom," he elaborated his earlier question, with a rather arrogant roll of his grey eyes. "Do you own one?"

"No," Harry said shortly.

"Oh, do you play Quidditch?"

Play what? Harry was very sure he had never heard of this sport before.

"No," he answered again.

"Pity that," the boy said, then a haughty glint touched his face and his mouth curved.

"I do. Father says it'd be a pity if I'm not put on the Slytherin team. I know I'll get into that house, how about you?"

Harry was absolutely lost in the conversation the boy was trying to have and was starting to feel rather stupid. He didn't know what he meant by house, so he just answered with a noncommittal sound.

"No one really knows what house they will get into, but all my family was sorted into Slytherin. I think if I were sorted into Hufflepuff, I'd just go home, or make father transfer me to Durmstrang."

Was Hufflepuff the bad house? Harry didn't know, but he wasn't about to take this kid's word for anything at the moment.

"I still don't know why they – Hey, look at that man!" Harry pointedly looked into the direction the boy was pointing and saw the large, lumbering form of Hagrid smiling at him through the window.

Hagrid waved joyously, indicating three ice cream cones he was holding in his hands.

"What on earth do you think someone like him is doing here?" his lip curled in disgust. "I doubt they even make robes in his size! Either way, I'd be embarrassed just to go out in public looking like that. Who do you think he is?"

If Harry hadn't liked the boy before, his opinion of him was quickly shrinking. At the same time Harry was finally glad to be able to say something more intelligible.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said, affronted, "and I think he's brilliant."

The boy sniffed at this and looked away from the window, as if the sight alone would make him ill.

"I heard about him," he huffed. "Father told me he's some sort of servant at Hogwarts."

"He's the gamekeeper," Harry clarified.

"Right, a servant," the boy nodded, thinking Harry was agreeing with him. "I hear he's barbaric; a raving drunk who can't even perform magic. Why do you think he's here?"

"He's here for me," Harry glared, then quickly added, "and my sister."

"Oh, is he?" the boy sneered. "And why is that? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," Harry said, deadpanned.

"Oh," the boy looked slightly uncomfortable at this. "Sorry about that, but…they were of our kind, right?"

Harry was rather confused by that statement, but knew well enough to know that his answer could very much cause the conversation to turn for the worse.

"My parents went to Hogwarts," he answered dumbly, hoping this would appeal to the bratty kid.

He nodded his head, as if in approval.

"Can you still believe it? They are still admitting muggleborn riff-raff into the school," he scoffed disdainfully. "I don't understand it. If it were up to me, I wouldn't admit any of them. They're different, grown up around muggles. I hear some of them don't even know about magic until they receive their letter, can you imagine?"

That hit a note and Harry was about to remark that _he_ hadn't known he was a wizard until he got his letter, when the witch fixing his robes suddenly tugged slightly and stood.

"There, all done!"

Harry thankfully got off the stool and turned to leave. The kid said a nonchalant, "I'll see you at school" before once again turning to berate the poor witch fitting his robes.

Harry only shook his head and paid for his robes. He noticed Cosette was sitting in a chair holding her parcel and watching him. She had apparently opted to wait in here for him versus outside with Hagrid. Did she really feel that nervous around Hagrid? When he was finished paying, Cosette quickly jumped up and together they walked outside to Hagrid.

Hagrid approached them as they exited the Madam Malkin's. He looked decidedly better than he did after exiting Gringotts. He handed each twin one of the three ice cream cones he was holding. Harry ate his ice cream very quickly while Cosette eyed it somewhat suspiciously. She took a tentative lick before scrunching her face up. After Harry finished his own ice cream she handed him hers which he took gratefully. Hagrid made no note of this transaction.

"Got everything yeh need?" he asked them, to which both twins nodded their heads.

"Good! 'Spect we should be gettin' yer books now."

At the mention of the books, Cosette's face immediately brightened. The prospect of going back to that shop with the leather bound books in the window made her excited. Harry had to admit that he too was somewhat excited to see what kind of wizard books were in there.

As they walked, Harry turned to Hagrid.

"Hagrid, what exactly are Hufflepuffs and Slytherins?"

Hagrid looked down at Harry with a surprised expression, before it quickly changed again.

"Geez 'arry, I keep forgettin' how much you don' know," he grumbled before continuing.

"They're two of the four houses kids are sorted into at Hogwarts. Though, Hufflepuffs are known to be a lot of duffers…"

At this Cosette made a little noise that sounded like, "I bet I'll be in that house…"

"Anyway," Hagrid continued, either not hearing Cosette or choosing not to respond. "Still much better then Slytherin, if yeh ask me."

"Why's that?" Cosette perked up, and Harry was somewhat surprised that she spoke at all to Hagrid.

Hagrid himself seemed surprised that she was speaking to him, and if they paid enough attention, they would realize it was the first thing she said to Hagrid since they arrived.

"Not a witch or wizard went bad that wasn't in Slytherin. Nothin' but a rotten bunch, the lot of them."

"They can't all be bad…" Cosette thought out loud.

"Course, that's the house that You-Know-Who came from," Hagrid affirmed darkly.

Neither twin knew exactly who Hagrid was referring to, but before they could press for more, they stopped in front of a large shop. Cosette's attention was immediately shifted to it.

The store was called Flourish and Blotts, and the minute the bell chimed as they entered, Cosette was already down an aisle. Her enthusiasm surprised Harry, but he was soon also skirting down the store with a surprising amount of glee. There were stacks of books everywhere; some piled so high they tipped and looked about ready to topple over. The towering masses of books contained books of all shapes and sizes; leather bound books, books fitted with silk, velvet and some even looked curiously enough made of plated silver. There were books with illustrious moving images on the cover, others with large magical symbols decorating them. Some sung when he opened them and others with nothing in them at all. Some were charmed to never open unless a spoken command was given. Some of the books even tried to bite him. Many of them were filled with nothing but strange symbols, while others listed ingredients for potions. Others still spoke of how to defend yourself against magical beasts, and others on where to find them.

It took Harry a lot quicker to gather the books then it did his sister. While Harry was never as much into reading as his sister, he was still overwhelmed by the amount of awe the bookstore conferred in him. Dudley was never a reader, so the bookshelves that filled his room were left untouched, and Cosette was very safe in nicking one or two at a time without fear of getting caught. After he collected his own books, he found Cosette rifling through a dark maroon colored book entitled:

_'Know Thine Enemy: A collection of Curses and Hexes for the Eager Beginner'__By S. H. Shadowyn_.

Harry smirked at the title, and when Cosette noticed him standing there, quickly put the book back and picked up her growing pile of school books.

"I was just browsing…" she spoke, as if trying to excuse her behavior. When she realized she didn't need to explain herself to her brother, she quieted down and blushed slightly.

"It's okay," Harry smiled. "I was looking at a bunch myself," he nodded towards the book on curses. "For Dudley."

They both shared a small chuckle. Harry helped Cosette carry some of her books up to the register. Hagrid blinked at the mountainous pile of tomes that Cosette had selected from the shelves. He coughed slightly as he looked at the title of one of the books.

_ 'Architecture of Madness' By Philip LeMarchand._

Hagrid eyed its cover skeptically. The book itself required Hagrid to hold with both hands, and was well over three-thousand pages long. He briefly skimmed the pages of the book which were filled with microscopic text and complicated charts, as well as lists of potions ingredients and detailed blueprints for some form of magical cubic configurations. Hagrid closed the cover and placed it back on the pile of Cosette's books, next to her brother's much smaller pile. Hagrid chuckled almost nervously as he addressed what he was apparently thinking.

"I can't help but notice that yer book list seems a bit longer than 'arry's…"

Cosette blushed and quickly turned her head as not to face Hagrid.

"Well… yeah I guess…" she said sheepishly.

Hagrid chuckled awkwardly again and continued.

"How about you get one extra book," he said giving her a slight wink.

Cosette nodded somewhat nervously and approached the counter where she began to browse the extra books she selected. She picked up LeMarchand's book which Hagrid immediately relinquished from her grasp.

"Any book 'cept that one."

Cosette simply nodded but she seemed somewhat dismayed by this. The clerk behind the counter was completely silent and was looking Cosette over anxiously while wearing an expression that said she was not sure it was a good idea to allow her to get even one book of _her_ taste. After several long minutes however, all but one of Cosette's extra books had been magicked back onto the shelves. The one book Cosette chose to keep was a small book in comparison with LeMarchand's book, but still quite large. It was titled: _'The Exposition of Hieroglyphic Figures' By Nicolas Flamel._

The clerk eyed her choice very skeptically.

"Are you sure you want this one?" she said eyeing Cosette skeptically.

Cosette seemed to falter horribly under her simple gaze, which she did not return.

"Y-y-y-yes…" Cosette said sounding oddly like professor Quirrell.

"Alchemy is a very complicated subject that requires a very thorough knowledge of Potions and Transfiguration, neither of which you have learned anything of since you are yet to start your first year at Hogwarts."

Cosette didn't say anything and there was a long pause, after which the clerk finally spoke.

"Alright, whatever. As long as you pay, I'm happy," she said rolling her eyes slightly. "It's better than letting her have anything by Phillip LeMarchand," the clerk mumbled in an undertone.

Cosette seemed intensely relieved at this and the clerk began to round up their total purchase. Cosette's extra book turned out to cost more than all her books put together but Hagrid said he was fully willing to purchase the book for her. Cosette appreciated this greatly.

After paying, they went to a store that sold cauldrons and other school supplies. Both twins were baffled as they viewed the different assortment; cauldrons made of copper, bronze, pewter, cast iron; cauldrons that could stir themselves and others that could cast the flame. Since their school list said pewter, both twins picked out the standard size. They also picked up a set of scales for weighing the ingredients and in another store they purchased collapsible telescopes.

They next visited the Apothecary, which smelled of a horrible mixture of incense, rotten eggs, and like half an herb garden exploded. The shelves were lined with everything imaginable. They both made faces at the names of some of them, spider legs and fat of troll, beetle shells and crocodile eyes. They had bundles of feathers and strings of teeth lining the walls, shriveled roots dangled off barrels that were shaking and groaning with live morsels. Powders in all colors littering about and snips of herbs could be found everywhere. They had glass jars filled with some yellow jellied solvent with animal parts floating in them. The prices varied tremendously from a few Knuts to several Galleons. It was quite obvious that rat tails were much cheaper than unicorn horns. They both received the standard potions kit and paid the man before leaving.

When they left the Apothecary, pulling along trolleys that carried their supplies, Hagrid announced they were now going to purchase their wands after reviewing their lists. Both of the twins got excited. This felt a like a rite of passage, the final staple that marked them as a witch and wizard and not just the plain, unimportant wastes the Dursleys were always calling them.

"Ollivander's the finest wand-maker around," Hagrid announced as they approached the tucked away store on the corner. Just as they were about to enter, Hagrid's face lit up slightly, as if he just remembered something.

"Oh! Er –I just remembered somethin' I forgot…" he looked nervously at the twins. "Why don' you two get yer wands…I'll meet up with yeh soon…"

"Oh, um… okay," Harry nodded his head. Hagrid took their carts for them and seemed to have no trouble hauling both of them about with his massive bulk. Both twins quickly wandered to the wand shop.

The place was cluttered and stuffy. The outside sign was faded and chipped and read obscurely: '_Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'_

A single wand sat in the front display window. Dust powdered every available surface and behind the disorderly counter were stacks upon stacks of dust-ridden boxes. The twins stood there for a while, breathing in the smell of aged wood and earth. A tingling feeling ran through both of them, making the hairs on the back of their necks stand up and a gentle, almost unperceivable magical humming could be heard. They were the only ones in the store, aside from what looked like a creepy mannequin behind the front desk, and as Harry moved, he couldn't shake the feeling that the eyes of the mannequin were following him. Both twins felt terribly uncomfortable.

Harry looked around the store nervously, unsure of what to do. He figured the best course of action was to find a clerk. He spotted a small tin call bell on the counter. He slowly walked over to it and gave it a sharp tap with his hands. The second the bell vibrated, there was a great creaking sound, and suddenly the mannequin stood up with the grace of an old decrepit man. Both twins' felt as if their hearts stopped. Cosette let out a small shriek. Dust billowed off the musty suit of the withered looking man, and his eyes danced about both of them. Upon seeing them both, a grin crossed his face, stretching his wrinkles.

"Your hair needs cutting," his shaky voice had a disturbing ring to it that neither twin appreciated.

Neither knew if he was referring to one or the other or both. Looking over the man, Harry's eyes landed to the wild, scraggily wires that made up the white mess on his head and he wondered who he was to talk. His eyes scanned them, and his gaze had a chilling quality to it that kept them both silent. His eyes seemed to glow in the paleness of his own skin.

Before either one of them could question further, his back was turned to them and his eyes and fingers danced over the assorted boxes.

"Seems like only yesterday your parents were in here buying their first wands."

Harry and Cosette exchanged a look.

"Your mother, ten and a quarter inches, willow. Good for charms. You father however, favored mahogany, eleven inches; a very practical wand for Transfigurations." He paused for a second, and twiddled his fingers against his bare chin. "I wonder how they got together."

Did the man ever blink? His silvery, luminescent eyes approached Harry and his long fingers came out as if to touch him. Harry took a step back unconsciously. The elderly man licked his thinned lips before smiling again. Unlike most people, the smile didn't make him look any friendlier. Cosette had taken back her earlier habit of grabbing her brother's shirt and trying to disappear in it.

"Shall we get started?" he asked, looking between the two. Before either one could say a word, he turned to Harry. "The exact image of young James Potter…but, ah! Of course, your eyes speak of your mother's influence…"

He shook his head.

"My, my, I wonder what wand will favor you as its master, Harry Potter," he said cryptically. At Harry's confused look, he elaborated. "The wand chooses the wizard, as you know… Tell me, which is your wand-arm?"

"Erm, well, I'm right-handed, if that's what you mean," Harry said nervously.

The man pulled a tape measure from out his sleeve and placed it against Harry's arm.

"Hmm… yes, I see…" he turned in a flash, and plucked out a box among the piles. "Try this one; oak, eleven inches, Unicorn hair core. Sturdy."

He approached Harry with the box and revealed a long, slender wand; an excited jolt ran through Harry. In response, the man thrust the wand into his right hand. Harry stood there holding the wand, not knowing what exactly he should be doing with it.

"Give it a wave, will you?" the man said impatiently.

Stupidly, Harry swished the stick of wood around. Nothing happened. Harry wondered if perhaps he had done something horribly wrong, but Ollivander only snatched the wand out of his hand and pulled out another.

"Try this one. Beachwood, nine inches, Dragon Heartstring. Just a bit bendy."

This time, when Harry flailed the wand around, a pottery jar cracked and exploded. Cosette shrieked out in surprise.

"Okie-dokie… Definitely not that one," he yanked the wand out of his hand and handed Harry another.

No one but Cosette seemed to notice the pottery jar was pulling itself back together like a puzzle and the cracks that remained were vanishing slowly.

They tried wand after wand, the list of definite no's grew and grew. Finally, Ollivander paused in his search after failed wand number twenty-one and turned abruptly towards Harry.

"I wonder," he pondered, his finger reaching up to trace over Harry's scar. His fingers were shaky and cold, and after he caressed his scar, he raised his forefinger to his lips. Harry's face scrunched up in shock and disgust.

"Your scar is still reminiscent of the curse that gave it to you… and a powerful curse at that."

Harry gulped and took a step back.

"I am ashamed to admit that I made many a wand, and I am the creator of the wand young Tommy owned. If I had known what would be done with it…" The old man shook his head and went to the back of his store.

He returned with a single slender box, and hesitated when he reached Harry.

"Holly, eleven inches, Phoenix feather core."

The wand was simple in design, a dark, rich color, but much straighter than any of the other wands he previously held. When Harry grasped the wand, he felt a warming sensation run through him. His fingertips tingled, and as he swished the wand about, streams of red shimmered out like a sparkler.

Cosette smiled and watched in awe and Harry grinned in triumph.

"Ah, Yes! There we go!" the man cheered. "Yet, how very curious…"

He somewhat reluctantly returned the wand and Ollivander repackaged it and placed it on the counter.

"Excuse me sir," Harry finally found his voice to speak to the eerie man.

Ollivander's penetrating silver eyes looked down at him. He seemed to wear a confused expression on his face, as if he hadn't been addressed in that way for years.

"But, what do you mean curious?"

The man gave a bitter sort of smile.

"Ah you see, your wand, Mr. Potter. Holly and Phoenix feather, not an uncommon combination, but I remember every wand I've ever sold. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. Stingy species the Phoenix…" he paused and stared dreamily at the ceiling. "It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother, gave you that scar," he said slowly bringing himself back to earth.

Leave it to this old man to spoil whatever excitement Harry would have gotten when receiving his first wand. The grim underlining of his words rung out in Harry's ears, but he didn't know entirely what to think about the man's statement.

"We can expect great things from you, yes. Mr. Potter, after all; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, but great."

His eyes momentarily flickered towards Cosette, and she flinched slightly. His daunting expression quickly flittered.

"I haven't forgotten you either, Cosette Potter." Ollivander gave another one of his cold smiles. "You look so much like your mother, though I have to say you carry an aura vastly different. I have to say it's an improvement from your mother, spoiled child…"

Harry felt his dislike for Ollivander grow at this last comment, at the same time he was just a mad old wand-maker and Harry decided not to take his comments seriously. Cosette didn't know whether she should be happy someone in this world seemed to notice her or not, especially after that last comment. Ollivander gave off some weird vibes, and he seemed to destine Harry in the same league as a bad someone-who-she-should-apparently-know. Whoever it was, Cosette didn't need to guess that he's the reason her brother is so famous. It was the scar. She just wished she knew more, but she wasn't about to ask Ollivander about it.

"Wand-arm, please," he was at least nice enough to be courteous, but it still took Harry's assuring glance for her to fork over her right arm.

He measured it quickly, and Cosette felt a tremor as his icy fingers touched her skin.

He went behind the counter and produced a wand box.

"Try this one. Maple, nine and three quarter inches, Unicorn Hair. Nice, soft and swishy."

Cosette grasped the slender, dark colored wand and was dismayed when she didn't produce the same fireworks as her brother, but instead her wand emitted a howling noise.

"That's a no then," he cringed at the noise it made and quickly snatched wand.

The sound died immediately and he went back to retrieve another.

"Holly, Dragon Heartstring, ten and a half inches."

He handed her the wand and she swished it about. The counter in front of them jumped and Harry's new wand fell off and went for the floor. Harry made a dive towards it and caught the box before it landed.

"Sorry," she muttered to Harry as he put the box back on the counter.

Harry gave her a small smile.

"Erm… how about a Phoenix Feather core, like your brother? Twins generally do share a strong connection."

He came out with another wand that looked much like the one Harry had. She chanced a look at Harry and he gave her an excited smile. She returned it, suddenly feeling confident about this wand. As she swished the wand in her hand, she was surprised to find that, not the counter jumping, or a jar breaking, but an entire bouquet of flora to emit comically from the end of her wand.

She stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment, while her brother snickered.

"Hrmn… apparently not _that_ connected…"

He took the wand back roughly; a few petals and leaves fluttering off and disappeared before they hit the floor. It took several more tries before she found a successful wand.

"Ash, thirteen inches, Unicorn Hair. A very powerful wand when wielded by its true master, though I dare say this one only performs well for its _true_ master, very loyal this wand," Ollivander said, eyeing all the fragile items in his store. "… Don't give this one too many test waves."

The wand was of a pale, washed-out wood, but well-polished. It also had a barb of knobbly wood on the bottom of its handle. It was a very straight wand that seemed to sharpen to a very lightly accented point at the end. Harry looked at the luxurious looking wand almost enviously.

She took the wand and felt the warmth run through her, and by her command, a jet of sparks flew from the tip. She gave a wide smile to Harry, who congratulated her.

"You are very lucky," Ollivander said to her as he handed her the packaged wand. "The last person who tried this wand was in 1942… he had a slight misfiring accident… the fact that he lived beggared reason…"

Cosette's eyes widened in fear and she frightfully took hold of her wandbox hesitantly, as if holding it would cause such devastation. Together they paid for the wands, 9 Galleons for Harry's and 12 for hers, and went to find Hagrid. Ollivander placed the money on the counter.

As they left the shop however, they could hear Ollivander wistfully mutter to the musty air, "I finally got rid of that wand…" After which he turned, sat in his chair behind the front desk and resumed his lifeless stance. The coins he left precariously on the table began to jitter, then float towards the ceiling.

They didn't have to wait long for Hagrid, for almost immediately after paying, they heard him tapping against the glass store front of Ollivanders.

"''arry, C'sette! Looky 'ere! 'appy Birthday!"

He was brandishing a cage, and inside nestled the most beautiful white snowy owl either of the twins had ever seen. Both of them stood gaping for a second. Birthday? No one had ever given them a birthday gift before.

Cosette actually was the first to approach Hagrid this time. She smiled up at the giant for the first time, and gave him a stare filled with gratitude. She shifted her gaze down at the bird, and Harry could see her excitement. She eagerly asked Hagrid if she could hold the cage, and he handed the bird to her.

Harry and Cosette both marveled at it for a while, before he looked up and at Hagrid. He really didn't know what to say.

"Hagrid… you really didn't need to. No one has ever given us a birthday gift before…" Harry said, looking somewhat ashamed.

"I know!" Hagrid looked perturbed at the thought. "Them Dursleys, I'd be surprised if yeh got even a card from that lot! Tha's why I got yeh an' owl. Be the best thing ta get, too. Owl's are brilliant birds. See, you can send messages with them an' all."

"Hagrid… Thank you, thank you so much." Harry smiled up at him. He couldn't rightfully say how much this truly meant to him and all words just felt totally inadequate.

"Yes, thank you Hagrid," Cosette chimed in.

Harry could see she had finally seemed to lose whatever hostility she had over Hagrid with this one token on kindness. He could see she was growing quickly fond of the snowy white owl. They made their way back up the cobbled road through the crowd. Harry asked Hagrid where he left their stuff to which Hagrid responded that it was up in their room for the night at the Leaky Cauldron. Cosette on the other hand was simply gleaming with joy from receiving the snowy owl, which she couldn't stop thanking Hagrid for. Hagrid seemed to find this rather amusing.

"So tell me," Hagrid said. "How's Ollivander?"

Harry faltered somewhat in his step and Cosette paled.

"I…don't…know…" Harry answered, nervously looked back at Madam Malkins, half afraid the mannequins would follow him.

Hagrid only grinned.

They finally made it back to the Leaky Cauldron where Hagrid ordered them all food, and people again started to quickly crowd around Harry, much to Cosette's displeasure. After several hundred handshakes, Hagrid told the other customers to leave the three of them in peace to eat. Harry appreciated this greatly, especially since with the dwindling crowd Tom was able to walk through with their food. He was holding a tray bearing several plates, bowls and a bucket sized tankard of ale for Hagrid.

The Leaky Cauldron didn't offer a lot of impressive foods, just everything you might expect in a medieval pub, though they served a pea soup that seemed to move and slither ominously. Cosette was not particularly interested in this at all. The group ate in silence, Cosette poking food that seemed appropriate to the snowy owl who ate it gratefully.

"You alrigh' 'arry? Yeh seem a bit quiet…" Hagrid asked after the initial pause.

Harry wasn't sure if he should say what was on both his and his sister's mind, but he felt that he needed to understand first hand why he was so famous, how Ollivander knew so much about him and his sister, and why Ollivander seemed to know some things that he was apparently supposed to know. So after another significantly shorter pause, Harry asked Hagrid to answer these questions.

"Well the thing is, everyone seems to know who I am, and some of them, like Ollivander, seem to be under the impression I already know why. They keep talking about this person they refer to as You-Know-Who, and Ollivander even said he sold a wand to this person. He also said that the same wand belonging to this person gave me this scar, but I didn't even know I was a wizard until yesterday; so where could I have received this scar? I don't even remember meeting any witches or wizards until last night."

Hagrid was silent, he seemed to be slowly gathering his thoughts on what to say in a very similar fashion Harry had done earlier.

"Well, the thing is 'arry, like I was explaining with the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins earlier… Not all wizards are good, some of them are a pretty rotten bunch, an' some just go plain evil."

There was another long pause in which Hagrid took a long drag from his tankard.

"You see a few years ago, there was one wizard who went as bad as you can get, and well, his name was –" Hagrid seemed to pause here, hesitating enough to draw Harry's immediate notice.

"His name was what?" Harry pressed when several seconds past.

Hagrid took a deep breath, as if preparing him for some great task.

"His name was, V-V-Voldemort," Hagrid's face drained of all color.

"Voldemort?" Harry repeated in a voice much louder than Hagrid's whisper.

"Shh!" Hagrid roughly silenced, taking a quick look around the pub to see if anyone had noticed.

He looked deeply unsure about what he was about to say next, and it caused both twins to lean in forward. His voice grew huskier, barely over a whisper.

"Well, Vol—the dark wizard… he killed yer parents for standin' up to him. You two were the only survivors." His eyes focused intently on Harry.

"The story goes, is that when he tried to kill you, 'arry, something went wrong. No one really knows what though, yeh see? Tha's why yer famous."

Hagrid pointed one of his chunky fingers at Harry's forehead.

"That's why yer so famous; yer The Boy Who Lived."

"What do you mean?"

"The thing is 'arry, this man was the most powerful dark wizard of the time an' he was at the height of his power with many loyal followers, an' no one lived after he decided to kill 'em. Nobody… 'cept you. Somethin' about you stumped him that night, tha's why everyone knows you as The Boy Who Lived –because somehow, he perished, but you didn'."

Harry sat in silence, Cosette giving him a look he couldn't identify. It was a lot to take in, and Harry still couldn't seem to piece together why this made him so famous. Cosette was mulling everything she heard over in her head, and came up with a similar conclusion. She didn't know why something that happened beyond either one of their control when they were babies could make him so famous. It was uncomfortable enough to watch as her brother was swarmed by dozens of witches and wizards, all clawing to get a chance to meet him. Their parents were killed by some crazy dark wizard, and for whatever reason, by fault from the wizard himself most likely; Harry was able to defeat him.

The rest of the meal was finished in silenced. Harry was looking much more disturbed by Hagrid's explanation than Cosette, who began to glare slightly at the patrons who rose with them as they left to give their farewells.


	7. The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

The Hogwarts Express

Harry and Cosette were forced to spend another month with the Dursleys, for Hagrid told them that he had important business at Hogwarts to attend to. He gave them vague instructions to show up at King's Cross station on the first of September, and that their tickets were in the envelopes. The twins both had mixed thoughts on these instructions. Harry was desperate to go to Hogwarts, while Cosette was captivated by her books. She spent no time sleeping at the Leaky Cauldron the night before their arrival back at the Dursleys. Instead, she spent the night reading her Potions and Transfiguration school books to better decipher the words in Flamel's book, a rather desperate and futile effort.

The last month the twins spent with the Dursleys was better than the previous eleven years with them. They were no longer locked up in their usual cupboard but instead were sharing Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley was now petrified of both the Twins, something Cosette seemed to get more pleasure out of than Harry, and had agreed to give up the bedroom after they had contaminated it. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had resumed to act as though neither of the twins were residing in the house at all. At meal times they would act as if only the two of them were at the table (Dudley would eat in the living room since he refused to be near the twins). This arrangement greatly suited both of the twins, Cosette enjoying it greatly because it gave her an opportunity to read her books over the month. No longer did the twins have to do mountainous amounts of chores, nor were they bothered in any way by the Dursleys. For Harry, he felt the improvement was rather tiresome, something Cosette didn't really understand.

Though the month of peace was the best the twins had, it still crept by at a snail's pace. Both of the twins were too enthused about the idea of going to Hogwarts to pass the time with any relative ease. They spent the time comparing their books and school supplies and arguing over what to name their new owl. Harry was convinced of the name "Hedwig," which he found in their copy of _A History of Magic_, while Cosette was rather adamant of naming the owl "Berno," a name she gathered from her own book. However, after Harry had pointed out that their snowy owl was actually female, Cosette had blushed and conceded.

They had for the first time in their lives, a bed to sleep in, and one that wasn't cramped. They both fit comfortably on the twin sized bed. Hedwig was a pleasure to have, and they watched after her as she traveled to and from their window every night. It was a rather interesting experience every time she returned, for she always had in her beak a mysterious gift for the two, which usually consisted of dead mice. The Dursleys never complained, so they enjoyed their time off in relative peace. That is, until the day before September 1st, the day the twins were to leave for school, and without any idea on how to get there.

Harry had bravely taken up the troublesome bother to approach the Dursleys to ask if they could get a ride to the train station. In retrospect, neither knew if they would want to drive them even that far. They were two hated and neglected children and while they were thoroughly ignored the past month, the tense animosity was as strong as ever.

Harry had walked sheepishly into the living room, where the Dursleys were being entertained with some sort of program on the tube, not noticing his presence. It wasn't until Harry cleared his throat did he get their attention. Dudley squealed and fled the room in dead panic and Aunt Petunia sat a little straighter in her chair, giving Harry a scrutinizing glare. Uncle Vernon didn't move his eyes from the screen.

"Erm… Uncle Vernon?" Harry called nervously.

The large man merely grunted, and Harry wasn't sure if it was in affirmation or not that he was listening, but he continued.

"I was wondering if…er… it would be at all possible to give me and my sister a lift to King's Cross Station tomorrow?"

Uncle Vernon didn't seem to be paying the slightest bit of attention to him, and rather absentmindedly asked, "Whatever for?"

Harry took a breath.

"To go to Hogwarts," he answered.

Vernon grunted, still not looking at him.

"King's Cross you say? You will be traveling there by train? What is it, you lot don't fly off on brooms?"

Harry was quiet, uncertain how to respond to such a statement. Incredulously, Uncle Vernon continued.

"Where is this ruddy school of yours, anyway?"

Harry looked suddenly nervous. In all his excitement, he failed to actually learn the whereabouts of Hogwarts.

"I…I don't know," he breathed out.

Vernon grunted.

"Not that I particularly care, but fine, we will ship you off to King's Cross. We have business in London tomorrow, anyway," he said this last bit with venom, actually turning towards Harry to glare at him.

Harry gulped, afraid to inquire.

"And… and why do you have to be in London?" Harry asked trying to keep the conversation pleasant.

Vernon's face scrunched up in a piggish manner.

"As if you don't know," he grunted, sniffing. "We must get poor Dudley's new appendage removed at the hospital."

"Oh…"

Harry awkwardly left the room as Uncle Vernon turned up the volume on the television as if to prevent any further interruptions.

Harry ran upstairs, relieved to have actually gone through that with a positive outcome. Cosette immediately asked how the encounter went. Harry gleefully retold the awkward conversation to finally report that they had a ride to King's Cross Station tomorrow. Cosette smiled and the twins shared a quiet conversation.

"What do you think Hogwarts is like?" Cosette asked somewhat dreamily.

"I don't know…" Harry answered honestly, unknowingly parroting her exact words when he asked that very question back in the shack.

Harry was a bit perplexed as to why it was only now that his sister got excited over Hogwarts when before she was sheepish, whereas he became excited almost instantly after hearing about the school.

"I can't wait to get there…" Cosette said. "Any place is better than here."

"Yeah," Harry agreed vaguely, he was too wrapped up in the thought that they were actually going to this school to actually engage in any conversation.

Instead he cast his dreamy gaze out the window, and after some time the two of them went to sleep.

The next morning the two twins awoke at precisely six a.m. and afterwards were too excited to go back to sleep. Instead, they double checked to make sure they had all their stuff together and then took turns pacing the room for the other Dursleys to wake up. Within no less than two hours, Uncle Vernon was heaving the twins' trunks into the boot of the car, a gesture that Cosette noted with suspicion though Harry didn't seem to notice in the slightest.

Aunt Petunia had some trouble convincing Dudley to sit next to the twins in the backseat of the car, which was accomplished, if barely done. Dudley didn't seem at all comfortable and made every effort to avoid eye contact and sit at the greatest possible distance from the twins. Cosette found this to be rather entertaining.

They arrived at King's Cross Station and Uncle Vernon continued with his kind gestures as he climbed out of the car and removed the twin's trunks to place them on carts, and even went as far as to wheel them into the station. At this point even Harry began to get somewhat suspicious, though he assumed Uncle Vernon was eager to get rid of him and his sister, though Cosette wasn't entirely convinced. They followed Uncle Vernon closely as they entered the station, when he turned suddenly to the twins.

"Where's your train then?" he said with a slight smirk.

Harry drew the letter from his pocket and from the torn envelope drew his train ticket and read it, blinking several times as he did, because what he read there, he was sure couldn't be remotely possible.

"Platform nine and three quarters…" he said, somewhat unsure.

This answer seemed to please Uncle Vernon very much; he gave a short laugh and continued on his way through the station towards platforms nine and ten. When he arrived at the platforms he stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze traveled between the plastic signs that identified the two platforms on either side. He turned around to face Harry and Cosette, a wicked grin on his face.

"It looks like your platform isn't here yet. Funny thing having to wait for a platform before the train that arrives on it," Uncle Vernon said an almost manic grin on his face.

Cosette immediately caught onto Uncle Vernon's implications and turned nervously towards her brother who remained unsure of what Uncle Vernon meant. The large clock on the wall struck ten a.m. and both twins shared a look. Almost on cue, Uncle Vernon's grinning form turned away from them.

"Well, good luck finding your train; I hope you have a good semester!" he was laughing cruelly at this point, and began walking away from them.

Cosette started with a panic the minute their uncle disappeared from sight. Her eyes grew wide and she clenched her brother's shirt tightly. They were gone. The Dursleys had abandoned them in a train station by themselves with nowhere to go with only their meager trunks and owl. Nervously, she looked back up at the space between platform nine and ten, hoping that platform nine and three quarters would spontaneously open up to them.

"Harry…" her voice was a nervous squeak. "What are we going to do?"

Harry took a breath and tried to calm down his sister.

"Don't worry, we'll find the platform, after all, the ticket says it's here…"

Harry had a hard time convincing himself that, let alone his sister. He nervously looked around for an answer to their problem. He briefly wondered about asking the guard, but wondered what sort of response he would get from asking about an apparently invisible platform to a magic school. Chances are he would laugh. He looked around at the passing people, desperately seeing if there was anyone wearing clothes similar like the ones in Diagon Alley that could help them. There was no one.

With ten minutes to eleven, Cosette was a nervous wreck. She looked about ready to start crying, and Harry was at his wits end in panic. What could they do? Would they miss their train? The tickets said the train would leave platform nine and three quarters at exactly eleven a.m. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he suddenly felt hopeless. Was all this for nothing?

Cosette was shivering, nervously looking about the station for any possible way out. They were only eleven and knew nothing about taking care of themselves and the Dursleys were not coming back. If they didn't find the train, they would be stranded with no food and no shelter in the middle of London. Just when Harry was about to give up all hope, he heard a buzzing conversation to his left.

"– Filled with muggles, this place is –"

Harry instantly began to follow the people who said the familiar expression, dragging his trolley and forcing Cosette to do the same. They soon found themselves behind a large family. A young girl around the twins' age was at the side of a short plump woman. Four boys of varying age were following the woman, all pushing carts similar to Harry and Cosette's. One, who looked to be the oldest, even had a caged owl on his cart, a dead giveaway that they were all probably wizards. Another looked to be around Harry and Cosette's age while the other two looked identical in almost every way. The whole family had flaming red hair making them easy to keep track of in the crowd as Harry and Cosette made to keep up. The plump woman was going on about making it to the platform before the train left.

"–Hurry up now, boys!" the woman said.

"Mum, can't I go?" the girl whined, giving her mother a pleading look.

"Now you know you can't go until next year, Ginny dear," she smiled down at the girl. "Percy, you go in first."

The oldest looking of the boys, the one with the owl, began to push his trolley towards the barrier in-between platforms nine and ten. Both twins watched curiously as he began to run at the wall. Cosette clenched her eyes shut, expecting a loud crash, and Harry eagerly watched, only to have a group of people walked just in his line of sight. By the time they left, the boy had vanished.

"Alright Fred, you next," she gestured to one of two red-haired boys which looked to be identical twins.

"I'm not Fred, he is!" the boy angrily proclaimed, pointing at his twin. "Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother; you can't even tell us apart!"

The woman gave a frazzling look and huffed.

"I'm sorry George, go ahead."

The boy huffed and looked still mildly offended and began pushing his cart like his older brother. Just before he reached the platform, he grinned brightly.

"Only joking, I am Fred!" the boy laughed and ran at the platform and to both Harry and Cosette's surprise, walked through the wall and disappeared.

Closely to follow was his twin, who was laughing at his tails into the platform.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Harry pushed his trolley along, Cosette struggling to do the same.

The woman stopped and turned in surprise, her eyes glancing at Harry, then his sister.

"But how exactly did he —how do you –"

"Get onto the platform?" she filled in. Harry nodded.

"First time, is it for you two?" Both twins nodded their heads. "Not to worry, its Ronald's first time as well," she said giving a gentle smile.

The remaining boy seemed to blush slightly as his mother favored him with a rather fond ruffle of his bright red hair. He was a rather awkward looking boy, with freckles and a rather long nose, with big feet and hands. He also looked very tall for his age and his clothes rather worn looking.

"Now, all you have to do is run straight at the wall, in-between the platforms. Don't stop, or you'll crash. Best do it in a bit of a run if you're nervous."

Harry _was_ a bit nervous, but began to push his cart towards the platform anyhow. Images of him smashing his trolley into the brick structure filled his mind and made him feel even worse. He dared not look away from the offending wall, as if doing so would only speed up his oncoming disaster. He was running now, as fast as he could with the cart, and was approaching the wall faster and faster. It was too late to turn back now. Just as he thought he would be picking up what remained of his trolley, he ran right through it, as if the barrier wasn't really there.

He appeared in some unknown area, a large red steam engine in front of him. The place was almost identical to the King's Cross station, but all the features seemed reversed. The ticket tellers were on the opposite sides of the barriers, the trains arrived and departed in directions opposite to the ones in the King's Cross station. The walls were all made of brick, cement and plaster, with medieval like carvings all around. The high windows were also stained glass, adding a variety of color to the enormous station as light poured in. People were bustling this way and that, and not just people. Cats were running in-between people's legs all over the station and owls were flying in the open space above them. A sign perched where the sign for platform ten clearly read: _Hogwarts Express_, and another announced Platform nine and three quarters. He had made it.

On the other side of the wall, Cosette was left there, staring at the wall that had just eaten her brother. Her mouth dropped slightly and she lost her breath. She must have been staring there for a while, not noticing even as the other boy ran into the platform, because the mother spoke to her.

"Nervous, dearie?"

Cosette jumped, and timidly looked over at the short woman. She was smiling at her, and Cosette deeply yearned to have her brother near.

"Don't worry, there is nothing to be afraid of," she paused for a second, looking over the girl. "Is that your brother?"

Cosette nodded her head, afraid to speak. The woman smiled.

"He's just fine, waiting for you on the other side, shall we go…?" she began walking towards the platform, and Cosette almost unconsciously began pushing her trolley forward.

"Come on, we'll go in together," she said encouragingly.

Cosette took a deep, shuddering breath, gripping her trolley until her boney fingers turned white. The woman seemed so certain that nothing would happen. She seemed honest enough, but Cosette still wasn't sure. The lady put her hand on Cosette's back in an encouraging gesture, and she froze at the contact, tensing.

"Let's go."

She nudged her forward, towards the solid wall. She was walking beside her, the other girl holding her mother's hand. As they approached the platform, she began to speed up a bit, and Cosette began a light trot. Soon, she began to run slightly, and Cosette's heart began thudding loudly. The platform was fast approaching, and Cosette once again closed her eyes, fearing that she would collide with the wall and make a ruin of things as usual. Instead, she felt a cooling sensation and heard the rumbling of an engine.

Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was a large, red train. She felt a new touch on her shoulder, and turned to see Harry grinning at her. She let out a nervous breath, and returned the look.

"Come on, let's go," Harry said excitedly, and Cosette didn't need to be told twice.

She smiled back at the mother, who in turn returned the gesture, before they pedaled off.

They quickly boarded the train and nervously maneuvered their trunks inside, careful not to trip over any cats or stray legs that were poking out of the different compartments. Most of the compartments were already packed, and so they both moved passed them towards the back. Finally, they found an empty one and went about trying to fit their trunks in the overhead rack. Harry could manage to get his into position, but couldn't get it into the small space. Cosette couldn't even lift the trunk over her head.

"Need help?"

Both turned to see one of the red-headed twins from earlier grinning at them, looking at their trunks with a raised brow.

"Yes, please," Harry said, trying not to let his trunk fall over.

"Oy, Fred, come and help!" the boy yelled, and soon, an identical red-head came bouncing up.

Both of them helped lift the trunks and fit them comfortably in their alcove, and Harry and Cosette smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks, they are a bit heavy," Harry said, wiping his sweaty brow, adjusting his hair.

At that moment, the twins gave him a funny look.

"What's that on your forehead?" one of them asked.

Unconsciously, Harry reached up to his forehead, as if something was on it that shouldn't be.

"That scar… it really does look like a lightning bolt."

Cosette gave the boys an interesting look, and then shifted to Harry, who moved his hair back in the way, blocking the other twin's view.

"Does that mean you're…?"

"What?" Harry furrowed his brows, confused.

"_Harry Potter!"_ both twins uttered in unison.

"Oh…" Harry shifted awkwardly, and he saw Cosette shift and huff next to him, then silently get into the compartment.

"Yeah, I'm him," Harry affirmed.

"Oh, wow!"

"Bloody brilliant!"

Both of the red-heads gawked at him, as if he were some sort of celebrity. Harry had forgotten during his last month, that in this world, he was somewhat of an icon. Just when he was about to shy away, they heard what sounded like their mother call loudly for them. Both immediately turned and exited the train. Harry quickly entered the compartment, noticing his sister in the far corner by the window, fidgeting with a Rubik's cube.

"Where did you get that?" he asked curiously.

"The car," she answered, in a somewhat annoyed manner. "It was Dudley's; though, I seriously doubt he'll even notice it's gone."

It was then that Harry remembered the toy, how Dudley had tried to smash his head with it those months ago. Harry remembered how frustrated his cousin got over the puzzle cube, and wasn't at all surprised that it had remained in the car after all this time, forgotten.

He took a seat opposite and peered out the window, and heard the familiar voices coming from it. He peered out and saw the collection of the red-headed boys and their mother standing just outside. He curiously listened in.

"Where is your brother Percy?" she asked them, while scrubbing off something on the youngest boy's face.

"Oh, he's coming," replied one of the twins.

Not a second later, the eldest boy came out.

"I can't stay long, mum. I have to be back in the train soon. You know, being a prefect, we have our own compartment in the front," Percy announced, looking quite pleased with himself.

It was only then did Harry notice that the boy was already in his school robes, which were slightly different from his and his sister's because of the red underlining and crest on the left side of his chest. He also had a large silver badge with a _P_ on it pinned to his robes.

"Really, Percy? You? A prefect? Who would have thought?" Fred looked wondrously.

"Yeah, I don't think he's mentioned it before," George whistled.

"Well, maybe that one instance –"

"Or that other time –"

"Or that other _other_ time –"

"Or pretty much all summer—"

"Oh, do shut up," Percy huffed, looking indignant.

"Mum, guess who we met on the train!" George suddenly said.

"Remember that boy we saw who was almost wetting his pants at the platform?" Fred continued.

Their mother looked at him and a stern expression.

"Come now, Fred, don't say such things –"

"He's _Harry Potter!"_

The mother was silent for a while, and Harry sunk further into his seat.

"Really?" he heard her voice.

"Oh, mum! Can I go on the train to see him, please, please, _please_?" he heard the young girl begging.

"No, Ginny, you can't. Oh that poor boy, and his sister. No wonder they looked so lost…"

"Who cares about that?" George cut in. "You think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"George, don't say such things!" his mother berated. "And don't you go asking him, either! It's none of our business!"

"Fine, fine, woman," George conceded. "Though, I think it would be wicked cool if –"

"George Weasley! He doesn't need to have people saying those sort of things on his first day of school!"

Harry glanced back out the window and spotted the family giving last minute goodbyes. Their mother turned and gave each one of her children a tight, squeezing embrace and showered them in kisses. When she turned to the twins, she kissed their cheeks before giving them a stern look.

"Now, I want all of you to have a good term, a _good_ one," she pressed, giving the two a good glare.

"What do you mean by that, mum?" Fred asked innocently.

"Yeah, we're always the epitome of respectable Hogwarts students." George stood straight up, looking slightly offended at his mother.

"I mean it," their mother scolded. "I don't want to hear about you yet again causing a ruckus. Blowing up toilets or...or…"

"Toilets?" Fred raised a brow. "We never blew up a toilet."

"But thanks for the idea, mum," George grinned.

The woman looked flustered, just as a whistle rung out.

"Off with you, go!"

Both boys smiled.

"Bye mum!" they gave her a quick peck before turning back to their train. "We'll send you an owl!"

At this point, the youngest girl of the family began to cry slightly, begging to be able to go. The twins chimed in with what they evidently felt would make her feel better.

"Don't worry Ginny, we'll send you lots of owls too!"

"Yeah, and a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

The angry responses from their mother were drowned out by the train starting off. The youngest girl waved spastically at her siblings as the train picked up speed and was soon rushing off. Harry sighed heavily before leaving the window and sitting back, enjoying the slight rumble the train made. This was it, they were finally free. A smile touched his lips.

Almost immediately, Harry spotted the youngest red-head by the compartment entrance. He looked nervously at Harry, then his forehead, then back at Harry's eyes again, a guilty expression on his face.

"Hi," he said awkwardly.

"Hi," Harry answered.

"Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"No, not at all," Harry said, and with slight hesitation, he entered the carriage, sitting next to Harry.

He only then seemed to notice the other occupant in the room. Cosette wasn't paying the new boy any mind, just staring intently at the Rubik's cube, every now and then turning one of the faces this way and that.

"Hey Ron!" Both boys looked up to see Ron's twin brothers' heads pop into the compartment.

"Check it out; Lee Jordon's brought a giant hairy tarantula here! Wanna see it?"

Ron seemed to pale measurably, even with his light complexion.

"Erm…no…"

Fred grinned at his teasing, before noticing Harry next to him.

"Hey, it's you! We didn't introduce ourselves, did we? Fred Weasley, and this is George, and that thing sitting next to you is Ron."

"Fred!" Ron sputtered.

"Well, See ya!" Both twins enthusiastically waved their hands before wandering off, talking about eight-legged arachnids and their younger brother's pillow.

Ron had paled at hearing his brothers' echoing words, before brushing it off and turning nervously to Harry.

"So, you really are Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged.

"So that means you have the…scar?"

Harry sighed and pushed up his messy bangs, revealing the lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Wicked," Ron uttered and Harry grinned.

"So that's where, You-Know-Who…?"

"Yes," Harry sighed. "Though, I don't remember anything, just lots of green lights."

"Really?" Ron raised a brow.

"Yeah," Harry answered, before trying to change the subject. He really didn't want a repeat of what happened at the Leaky Cauldron, and for some reason, Cosette bristled when Ron asked about him.

"So, are your whole family wizards?" he asked curiously.

The fact of the matter was that Harry, who had no knowledge of the wizarding world aside from the limited glimpses provided by Hagrid, was just as curious to know more about Ron as Ron seemed awed by him.

"Yeah," Ron scratched at his nose, which had a large black smear of some kind on it. "As far as I know. I think there is some distant cousin or other that's an accountant or something, but we don't really talk about him."

"A whole family of wizards," Harry said in a whimsical fashion. "Must be nice to have a bunch of wizard siblings."

Cosette bristled further, but didn't say a word.

"You're more than welcome to have mine," Ron grumbled, staring briefly at his feet. "S'not all it's cracked up to be. I've got five brothers. They all have done great in school, so it's kind of expected for me to do the same. So, it doesn't really matter what I do, because they've all done it before, and probably better, anyway. You also get stuck with all the hand-me-downs! You should be glad you're an only child."

"I'm not; I have a sister," Harry said incredulously.

Did people honestly know him, but not his sister?

Ron gave him a questioning look, before turning his eyes to the other silent occupant in the carriage. Cosette still refused to say a word, her lips pulled into a tight line as she furiously jumbled the toy, not even trying to solve it, but just angrily turning it as a way to let loose frustration.

"Really?" Ron's eyes widened at Cosette. "I didn't know Harry Potter had a sister!"

At this, Cosette took her eyes off the cube and gave Ron a bitter scowl. Of course no one knew about her. She wasn't surprised in the least, if all the attention her brother got at the Leaky Cauldron was anything to go by.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said politely.

He was already introduced, so she didn't understand why he was stating it again, as if she wasn't present when it was first brought to her attention.

"Cosette," She answered, not bothering with her last name. He was smart enough to figure that out, right? He was still staring at her with a peculiar look.

"Do you have a…erm…scar?"

A scar? Well, yes, she had several; many of which were the product of years of physical abuse at the hands of Vernon Dursley, but Cosette knew that wasn't what he was asking.

"No," she answered simply. She didn't have a cool looking lightening shaped scar on her head, or anywhere else for that matter.

"Oh…" Ron responded, sounding disappointed.

Harry could see that the conversation was making his sister uncomfortable, so he quickly changed the subject. He decided to start talking about himself. He spoke about how he found out he was a wizard, how before that he didn't even know there was such a thing as magic, how he and his sister were treated rather poorly by their uncle and aunt.

Cosette had stopped messing with the Rubik's cube and gave her brother a disbelieving look, as if she couldn't believe he was telling someone what they went through. Ron looked shocked, but didn't say anything mean about it, he only swallowed.

"Sounds horrible. I've got to wear hand-me-downs as well," he said sheepishly, tugging at his faded clothes. "We don't have much money either, you see, even with my older brothers Charlie and Bill gone, with five of us…"

His ears suddenly brightened up as he turned his head away.

"I did get Scabbers though," Ron reached into his robes and pulled out, of all things, a rat.

"He was Percy's you see, but he got an owl from dad because he's a prefect this year. Wouldn't shut up about it for two seconds, really," he mumbled.

At that time, a trolley was pushed in front of the open compartment door, and a rather large woman smiled at them.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

The cart was covered in all sorts of confections, and when he received a negative about his inquiry of Mars Bars, Harry asked what everything else was. There was a long list which included Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes and many other sweets that made his mouth water.

He briefly turned to Cosette, who was also studying the trolley curiously.

"You hungry?" He asked them.

Cosette was silent a second, before nodded her head yes, and Ron looked a bit flustered. Harry shrugged and decided to get a handful of everything. He had never had much candy in his life, so the prospect of splurging was quite tempting.

The goods were divided equally between the three occupants. Ron, after some hesitancy, accepted the goods after giving his mother's wrapped corned beef a disgusted look. Cosette studied the candies carefully, and not a few times eyes opening wide as she read something.

Harry didn't know what to start first, but eventually decided to go after the one thing he always loved –chocolate. He held a small container and surveyed the oddly shaped box. Chocolate Frogs.

"Are they _real_ frogs?" Harry asked.

"No, only charmed to wriggle about when you eat them," Ron answered, and he saw Cosette's face drain slightly as she held one container, before quickly shoving her collection of Chocolate Frogs into Harry's.

"It's the card you really want, though," Ron said. "Each pack's got a famous witch or wizard in them."

Harry quickly opened up his container, but wasn't fast enough to catch the frog. Just like Ron had said, it wriggled, but it also jumped. Soon, it hopped up against the window and promptly fell out. Cosette looked more than a bit white. Did a piece of candy just leap out the window?

Harry looked dismayed but quickly got over it as he calculated how many other chocolates he now had since his sister's gracious donation. Looking back at his box, he saw a card stuck inside, and pulled it out.

"I've got Dumbledore!" he announced, recognizing the name instantly from the one on his school letter.

Ron didn't look surprised.

"Meh, I've got about six of him, what I really need is Agrippa; it's the only one I don't have."

Harry looked at the card, marveling at the fact that the picture of the elderly wizard with half moon spectacles and long white hair. On the back was a little description:

_Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous of his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

Turning the card over, he was surprised to see an empty apace.

"Hey, he's gone!"

"Well you can't expect him to wait around all day, can you?" Ron answered simply, Harry looked surprised.

"Well, in the muggle world people in pictures just stay put…" Harry said quietly.

Ron looked quite intrigued by this.

"Really?" he asked through a mouthful of cauldron cake.

"Yeah."

"Weird…" Ron said with a somewhat mystified expression.

Harry cast his gaze out the window; they were rushing past large open moors and many cows. Sparse trees dotted the landscape along with old stone walls separating the moorland into more manageable segments. A passing shepherd with his flock didn't even seem to notice the train go by. Harry put the card down, eager to try other temptations. He picked up a box that read Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Be careful with those," Ron said, taking a bite of his pumpkin pasty. "When they say every flavor, they mean _every _flavor. They got peppermint and lemon, you know standard stuff. But also liver, spinach and sardine. George swears he got a bogie flavored one, once!"

At this, once again Harry found that his pile of goods had grown, as Cosette cast off her jelly beans on to him. He gave her a questioning look, but she only shook her head, eyeing the candy as if it were poison.

Harry shrugged and opened one container and plucked out a green looking one. Plopping it in his mouth, he nearly gagged as the taste of lima beans filled his mouth. They dwindled down through the list of candies, and Cosette seemed to finally find a safe one, as she hesitantly tasted a Licorice Wand, which Ron insisted was "just plain licorice," and "boring." However, after finding that it tasted of strong, bitter black licorice, Cosette left the rest of the candy uneaten.

After a bit, there came a rather round-faced boy who popped his head in their compartment.

"Excuse me, but have you seen my toad?" he asked anxiously.

They all shook their heads, and the boy looked beyond miserable. "My auntie bought me that toad, and I lost it!" he moaned out.

"I'm sure it will turn up," Harry's cheering up seemed to do nothing, as he began to run down the aisle of carriages wailing.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, and Cosette shook her head. She had already gone through her candy and found none of them terribly enchanting. She had given most of them back to Harry, who accepted them. She went about going through her trunk for her books, and finally found the one she wanted, the one Hagrid had graciously bought for her. She didn't understand any of it really, and going through her school books didn't help her at all, but she enjoyed looking at the diagrams and such. She hoped to one day be able to understand this alchemy book.

It began to grow dark outside and Ron and Harry were now talking about the rat Scabbers, and Ron was animatedly explaining that he knew a spell to change him yellow. After retrieving his wand, the red head pointed the brittle looking piece of wood at the rodent before clearing his throat.

Just before he could utter his spell, the door once again was occupied by a person, this time a girl. Her hair was frizzy and her front teeth were rather large and she had a bossy air about her, head tilted up in an arrogant sort of way.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost it," she asked sounding slightly annoyed.

"No, we haven't seen it," Ron mumbled. "He already came in here asking about it."

Upon studying the boy, she noted his poised wand and her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! Are you doing magic! Let's see then!"

Without an invitation, the girl let herself in and took a seat next to Cosette, who self-consciously crawled farther away against the seat.

Ron looked warningly at Harry, who shrugged.

"Erm…alright," he cleared his throat again.

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

His wand sparked somewhat, which reminded Harry of a loose wire, yet nothing happened. The rat just sat there, looking curiously at its master.

Harry looked at Ron, who in turned shrugged.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the new girl chirped in. "Well, it's not a very good one, is it? I tried a few spells, but they've all worked for me. I started reading my books since I got back from Diagon Alley. My parents aren't magical you see. They were so pleased when I got my letter, you can imagine. Hogwarts really is the best placed to learn magic after all; at least, that's what I read. I've memorized all my books cover to cover since then."

Ron, Harry, and Cosette all stared blankly at the girl, who seemed to have a motor for a mouth at the rate she was talking. She then turned toward Cosette, as if noticing then that she had book in her hand.

"Oh, Cricket! I've read about that book! It's supposed to be a very, very complicated alchemy book!" Her eyes lit up and Cosette shrank further away. "Can you understand it?"

Cosette gave the girl a blinking stare before replying quickly, "Yes."

The bushy haired girl looked amazed, then skeptical.

"That book is supposed to be highly advanced, where did you learn to read such a thing without taking a single lesson in Transfigurations and –"

She stopped here, blushing brightly. Cosette wondered briefly if the girl was sane. Did she honestly think she was telling the truth?

"Pardon me," she blushed deeply. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Cosette," she answered Hermione, once again leaving out her last name. The bushy headed girl looked expectantly at the boys.

"Oh erm… Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

Just as expected, the girl's eyes lit up.

"I've read about you!" Hermione said. "I know _all_ about you, or course. I picked up a few extra books, along with my school books. Your entire story is in them you see. You're in _Modern Magical History _and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."_

"I am?" Harry blinked, surprised to hear that he was put into published works. Just how many people really did know his story? It was rather uncomfortable to know that your personal life was so open to the public, and Cosette looked uncomfortable with it, too. He noticed that the minute Hermione responded to his name, she raised the book and hid her face behind it.

Harry missed the next bit Hermione said –the girl really did talk too fast – and only kicked in when he heard her ask about the school houses.

"Do you know which one you all want to be in? I want to be in Gryffindor; it seems to be the best of all of them. Professor Dumbledore was in Gryffindor you know, but I guess Ravenclaw wouldn't be that bad…"

"I –I haven't really given it much thought, to be honest," Harry muttered. It was honest; he hadn't thought which house he would be in at all. Ron answered with a simple shrug.

Hermione didn't look disturbed.

"Well, either way, you three better be getting into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon."

With that Hermione, bushy haired, talkative Gryffindor wannabe turned to leave. Before she exited, she turned and gave Ron a look.

"You've got dirt on your nose, did you know? Just there," she pointed to her own nose, then quickly strolled off. Without her, the compartment was oddly silent.

"Whatever house I'm in," Ron remarked, wiping furiously at his nose. "I hope _she's_ not in it."

Harry smirked and together they laughed a bit.

"Anyway, any house would be preferable, well, except for Slytherin, of course."

There goes that name again. So many people were telling him how bad it was. He hoped he wasn't sorted into it. Opposite him, Cosette listened closely, noting that, like Hagrid, Ron seemed of the same opinion that Slytherins were rotten. How exactly can they judge eleven year olds in such a way was beyond her, but shrugged and tried to focus on her book. It didn't really help much, however; she couldn't even pronounce the chapter's title.

"Have you read The _Daily Prophet_ yet?" Ron asked sometime later.

"The what?" Harry asked.

"Oh, sorry, forgot; you lived with muggles, you don't know the wizard paper," Ron muttered, embarrassed. "Anyway, they say someone broke into Gringotts."

Harry sat up slightly, Gringotts he did know about.

"Really? What did they take?" Harry was amazed that someone had the courage to try and steal something from that maze. The prospect of getting lost or facing dragons obviously didn't have the same affect on some wizards.

"Nothing, that's the strange thing," Ron said.

"Why?"

Ron shrugged. Before he could say another word however, their compartment was once again opened. This time, it wasn't because of Neville or Hermione, but a group of three boys. Harry recognized the one in the middle as the same one from the robe shop. The two next to him were rather thick and built tough, with harsh, cruel expressions on their faces.

"Are the rumors true?" the blonde boy spoke, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Everyone on the train is saying that Harry Potter is in this compartment. Are you him?"

Harry heard his sister huff and then the slam of a book. He turned briefly to see his sister setting her book down and standing. She walked towards the entrance of the compartment, a tight frown on her face.

"I need to use to bathroom," she murmured, walking passed the three boys standing in the way. They didn't even seem to notice her, all staring expectantly at him.

"Yes," Harry huffed out. "I'm him."

The blonde boy looked please, and a smirk came onto his face. He nodded his head in his two friend's direction.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle. I'm Draco Malfoy."

Ron seemed to snort at this, trying to hide his chuckle by coughing. Malfoy turned his eyes onto Ron and narrowed them, a sneer appearing on his lips.

"You think my name's funny, do you? Do I even have to ask for yours? No, I don't think I do. My father told me all about the Weasleys," he curled his lips, as if the name made him ill. "Red hair, hand-me-downs, freckles, and more kids than they can afford."

His grey eyes turned to look at Harry, where they narrowed.

"You'll soon discover that some wizarding families are better than others," here he reached out his hand to shake Harry's. "I can help you there."

Harry looked down at the offered hand, then over to Ron, who was glaring daggers at Malfoy.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry said, ignoring the offered hand.

Malfoy withdrew his hand as if struck. His face tinged red and a snarl curled his lips.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he spat out the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Unless you're a bit more polite, you might end up like your parents. They didn't know what was good for them. If you don't watch out, hanging around the wrong sort, like Weasley and Hagrid, it'll rub off on you."

Maliciously, he smirked at Harry, who stood up angrily, Ron by his side.

"Oh, are you going to fight us?" He looked amused back at his two friends. In all honestly, Harry knew he would do abysmal if he were to get into a fight with the three of them, his two henchmen looked like they could tear him apart. Still, his comments angered him in a way like never before. He had no right to day such things.

"We will fight, unless you leave right now," Harry's voice was level and hard.

Malfoy sneered.

"Hear that boys? Potter doesn't want us here," he looked Harry up and down with disgust. "And what if we want to stay here? We finished our food, and it looks like you still have plenty." Looking past the two, Malfoy could plainly see the piles of candy on the seats. However, when Goyle reached a hand in the compartment to get a treat off of Ron's seat, he howled in pain.

Pulling back his hand, he noticed Scabbers, Ron's pet rat, firmly gasped to the chunky boy's finger by his teeth. The boy screamed as if in terrible pain and waved his hand around dramatically. After a few seconds, the large boy removed his finger from the rodent's mouth and all three fled from them in terror, whether it was from the rat, Harry, or the idea of talking to Hermione – since her head peaked out at them in a scolding manner – he didn't know. Harry could have blinked and missed it.

Ron was slowly picking up his rat and sitting back down, Harry joined in awkwardly.

"Is he alright?" Harry asked, motioning towards Scabbers.

"Yeah, he'll be alright. Bloody brilliant of him to do that though, huh?"

Harry couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"Thanks by the way," Ron said, somewhat sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink.

Harry looked confused.

"For what?"

"For sticking up for me when Malfoy said those things…" Ron looked beyond embarrassed. "He's really rich, you see, and hanging out with him would definitely make you popular, I wouldn't have been surprised if… if you…"

"Ron, I'm already popular enough, I don't need to hang around with boys like that," Harry pointed out.

Ron looked at him curiously.

"Oh yeah, right."

"I meant it, though," Harry continued. "I _can_ tell the 'wrong sort' for myself, and he's definitely one of them."

Ron looked relieved at this, and smiled at Harry.

"Thanks mate. Hey, we should probably get into our robes now, that girl told us we'd be arriving soon, and since your sister's out of the compartment for the moment…"

Harry nodded his head and quickly the two changed into their uniform. As they sat back down, they heard the conductor's voice ring out that they would be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes. Harry couldn't help but grow anxious and excited.

Cosette had returned, and she was in her school robes as well. She silently took back her seat across from Harry, avoiding eye contact. Harry thought that was rather strange, but didn't have time to worry about it because just then the train stopped, announcing their arrival.

"This is it," Harry said, taking a deep breath before exhaling.

He looked nervously towards Cosette, who was now looking at him. She nodded slightly, repacked her things, but didn't remove the trunk. The conductor said that their belongings would be brought to the castle.

"Let's go," Harry said to her.

She was hesitant before taking his hand, something Harry had never seen before. However, when she grasped it, she didn't let go until they got off the train and were off to Hogwarts.


	8. The Sorting Ceremony

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

The Sorting Ceremony

Harry and Cosette made their way off the train and into the small country side train station. The crowd was very thick and Ron was keeping close behind Harry which annoyed Cosette slightly. Harry was wondering where he, Cosette and Ron should go when he heard a familiar voice call through the night air.

"Firs' years, this way!" the familiar voice called. "All firs' years come with me!"

Cosette recognized the voice and turned sharply in the direction of its source. Easily distinguishable from the rest of the crowd was the enormous figure of Rubeus Hagrid. Both Harry and Cosette were glad to see a familiar face and the two of them made their way towards Hagrid.

"Woah!" Ron said in amazement to Harry as he eyed the giant.

"He has got to be the largest man I ever saw…" Ron said.

Harry let go of his sister's hand and turned to Ron as they walked.

"That's Hagrid!" Harry said smiling slightly. "He's the groundskeeper at Hogwarts."

"You know him?" Ron asked somewhat impressed.

"Yeah, he brought me to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff about a month ago," Harry said. "And my sister."

"He's really nice despite how intimidating he might look," Harry continued while his sister eyed both him and Ron rather venomously, though Harry didn't seem to notice.

Ron was silent as he simply gawked at the giant who shot Harry a beaming smile. A tight group had formed all around Hagrid made up of the other first year students, all of them around Harry's age. The round faced boy, Neville, from earlier was there quietly sobbing over his toad. Draco Malfoy and his two body guards were staring at Hagrid with rather dismayed expressions. Hermione Granger was at the front of the crowd looking quite rigid and ready to kiss up to the nearest teacher. Hagrid surveyed the group twice, and continued to call. He then surveyed the other groups of older students as the crowd of first years thickened more.

"All right, this way to the boats!" Hagrid called. "Follow me!"

The group of first years seemed somewhat daunted by Hagrid and they nervously made to follow him as he turned around and led to a dirt path at the edge of the station. Hagrid was holding lantern high above his head making him easy to spot through the darkness. The only sound was the many footsteps of the children and crickets quietly chirping. The summer's warmth had yet to vanquish with the recent change of the month. The path they were on was very short; it led to a short flight of stone steps which after descending, the group found themselves at the shore of a large lake. Docked on the shore were many large rowboats. Cosette gave a sharp intake of breath and tapped Harry's shoulder.

"What?" Harry asked somewhat annoyed, he had been chatting with Ron the whole time.

Cosette looked deeply abashed to be addressed this way by her brother and gave a response with much less excitement than her prior mood.

"Across the lake…" she said sounding almost close to tears.

It was Harry's turn to be abashed, he didn't mean to sound so mean to Cosette but after looking across the lake as Cosette said, this incident was pushed to the back of his mind. Mounted atop a cliff face on the opposite side of the lake was an enormous castle. Tall towers circled around a large cathedral like structure. A stone bridge led across a treacherous looking ravine to another similar cluster of towers, however the cathedral like structure these towers circled was much smaller and so were the towers. Battlements and walls circled the castle, complete with many grotesques. The castle had a distinct medieval look to it. The windows speckled every surface on the castles outer walls and through each of them poured golden light which dazzled them like stars. Other students seemed to be busy admiring the castle because it took a while before everyone realized that Hagrid was instructing them to get in the boats.

"Only six people per boat if yeh don' mind," he announced from his own, slightly larger boat with his lantern mounted on its stern.

Harry, Ron, and a very deadpanned silent Cosette made their way into the nearest boat to them where they were shortly followed by Neville, Hermione, and a pale boy with jet black hair who introduced himself as Seamus Finnigan.

"Alright, everyone situated?" Hagrid called.

When no one called back "no" Hagrid turned around and sat himself down in his own boat. He pulled out his pink umbrella and pointed it to the castle and yelled out.

"Cast off!"

The boats began to shift and move on their own, forming into a fleet like formation as they made their way from the shore. Everyone watched the castle in silence as the boats slowly brought them closer. The castle loomed ominously over them and soon it was practically on top of them. Harry dropped his gaze in front of them and saw that they were entering the ravine that the stone bridge passed over. He was rather relieved because he thought that it looked as though they were headed for the rocky cliff face. The boats entered a large cavern near the mouth of the ravine, where there was a small lantern on a gravel shore revealing a place to dock the boats as well as a large door revealing a flight of stairs.

Throughout the short trip, Cosette had looked rather dismayed, and once again Harry felt a small amount of guilt. She was nervously wringing her hands, as if she wasn't sure if she should hold his hand like she would normally do when scared. He put it in his mind to apologize to her later, seeing as Ron was animatedly talking with him about Hogwarts.

When they docked, Cosette was the first to exit, standing just next to the boat and waiting for her brother. Harry got out and gave her a small smile, which she did not return. Her eyes were trained at the floor. All the voices of excited first years echoed in the cavern as Hagrid rounded them up again.

"Hey there, this yer toad?"

Neville's face sprang to life with relief as Hagrid presented him with his pet after checking all the boats.

"Trevor!" he yelled joyously, his voice bouncing off the walls.

He quickly snatched his pet from Hagrid's hand and nearly squeezed the toad until its eyes bulged.

"Well, if that be all, let's go!"

Hagrid led all the first years up the stone steps starting at the door way. Holding the lantern rather awkwardly at his side as there was no room for him to carry it above his head like earlier, despite how large the marble staircase was, Hagrid still managed to fill most of it up. They finally arrived on a landing in what seemed to be a worn down shed. Hagrid didn't spend any time on this landing and led them out onto a quiet garden with a twisted tree growing in the center. Harry gave a quick look at his surroundings and saw that they were in a walled in area, with breezeways on every side with the exception of the door they had just exited.

Hagrid then led them across the garden to the breeze-way to the left. Harry couldn't believe it, he had finally made it. Away from the Dursleys to a wizarding school that was nothing less of a castle. He would be walking in soon, nothing could describe Harry's excitement at that moment. They were greeted by a stern looking woman in emerald robes by the threshold of the breezeway. Her face was slightly withered with age as she seemed to be about fifty and she wore a pointed witch's hat that concealed her graying hair which she seemed to keep in a tight bun atop her head. Harry and Cosette's first reaction to the woman was that she was one of the last people you would want to cross.

"There all yers, P'rfesser McGonagall," Hagrid waved at the students.

"Thank you Hagrid," McGonagall said giving a curt nod as the oak door closed behind Hagrid.

All of them stared expectantly at the professor.

"Greetings, and welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "I am Professor McGonagall. The start of term feast will begin momentarily. Before it can begin, you will be sorted into your houses. During your stay, your housemates will be like your family. You will eat and study with your housemates. Good behavior will merit your house earning House Points; any rule breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year, the calculated points will award the house with the highest points the House Cup."

Her eyes once again searched the group before her. No one dared say anything; the woman's aura seemed to demand respect.

"The four houses are; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each of these houses hold a history at Hogwarts and each favor different traits and each has produced many talented witches and wizards."

She once again surveyed the group, giving each new student a wary gaze. Many students shifted uncomfortably as her gaze seemed to make one feel like they were in some form of trouble and were nervously awaiting their punishment as the teacher sized them up.

"I trust all of you will be a great merit to whichever house you are sorted into. The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few minutes. I suggest you all smarten up before entering the Great Hall." Her eyes narrowed on the students, and quite a few of them began tugging at their robes and patting their hair.

Harry had never felt the need to comb his hair more than at that moment.

"I will return when we are ready for you," her eyes cast one last glance. "Please, do wait quietly."

With that she was gone. Her robes twisted as she walked down the breeze-way and around a corner. The minute she left, the first years began buzzing with conversation.

"How exactly are we sorted?" Harry asked, hoping that Ron would know the answer.

Unfortunately, Ron merely shrugged, looking confused.

"I don't know. Fred says it's some sort of test. He says it's painful… I don't know if I believe him though."

Cosette looked suddenly unsure. Painful? She doubted any harm would come to them, but what sort of test would it be? She didn't know any magic. Would they sit her in front of everyone and ask her questions about her books? She suddenly wished she had studied them more, for she couldn't recall anything with enough capability. Surely everyone would laugh at her. She eyed the other students and saw many of them had her same fear, all except that bushy headed girl from the train, who was rattling off at someone about how many spells she knew. Cosette wanted nothing more at that moment then to shrivel up and disappear from the castle.

Harry nervously fidgeted where he stood. Surely they weren't expected to produce magic in front of the other students, right? He didn't know any spells yet, and he couldn't have been alone. He was terrified that once he got up there and they asked him to perform a spell, he'd mess up and be sent back to the Dursleys, telling him they made a mistake and he wasn't cut out to be a wizard. He looked over at Cosette and noticed her shoulders were hunched over.

He was disturbed from his musings by the sound of voices in the distance. As they came closer, he could pick up their words.

"—And I say, I only asked the Grey Lady for one dance, one dance!"

Everyone turned and there were a few shrieks in terror as twenty or so pearlescent, floating, transparent _things_ were approaching them. The one who was talking, which looked like a rather fat monk, turned at the distressing sound and eyed the students, a smile bursting on his face.

"Why, first years!" he called joyously. "Waiting to be sorted, no doubt."

Everyone stared at the ghosts silently. Cosette, once again, clung to Harry.

"Well, I hope to see some of you at the Hufflepuff table!" the Fat Friar beamed before he and the rest of them floated through the wall.

"Was that… are they…?" Cosette gulped. Harry could only nod.

"Ghosts," Ron piped up.

"Pay them no mind," came a strict voice.

Everyone turned to see that Professor McGonagall had returned.

"We are ready for you; please follow me into the Great Hall."

She turned and in a straight line, the students followed her. The "Great Hall" was the biggest understatement either twin had ever heard. The room was large enough to fit several houses in. Intricately carved statuettes adorned the walls. Harry gasped as he looked up at the ceiling, or was it a ceiling? Harry couldn't tell for it looked as though the roof just opened up to the night's sky. The sky also seemed magnified somehow as if the ceiling of the Great Hall had its own sky inside somehow. The stars sparkled and shone brighter than ever in here. Five long tables lined the interior, four of which had large banners hanging over them. The fifth standing horizontally and acted as the teacher's table. The tables with the banners hanging above them were adorned with different colors and coat-of-arms though Harry couldn't make out what the coats were as they passed. Stained-glass windows closely decorated the room next to jutting columns, and tall windows. Candles seemed to be suspended within thin air, floating and flickering about. As the professor led them up, they noted the tables were filled with students who were barely paying them any mind, talking idly amongst themselves, as if completely used to the extravagance of their surroundings. Each of their tables was lined with several large golden platters and goblets.

"The ceiling is only bewitched to look like the night's sky. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History._" Harry heard Hermione tell a sandy-haired kid who was gazing at the ceiling.

Professor McGonagall turned once she reached the head of the room. Next to her stood a stool, on which rested a rather rumpled looking old witch's hat. Was this the test? Did he have to pull a rabbit out of it? Though, as corny as it sounded, it felt oddly in place with his surroundings in mind. The place had suddenly quieted down and everyone was staring expectantly at the hat. Harry gulped down the sudden queasiness of nerves he felt.

Before he could gather what exactly was happening, he saw the tattered hat begin to move. Its wrinkled edges seemed to waver and curves shifted, almost until the creases resembled a vague outline of a mouth. What happened next took Harry several seconds to swallow. The hat's creasing mouth grew wider and then a voice broke out through the silence as it began to sing. The hat was _singing._

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
>But don't judge on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A smarter hat than me.<em>

_You can keep your bowlers black,_  
><em>Your top hats sleek and tall,<em>  
><em>For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat<em>  
><em>And I can cap them all.<em>

_There's nothing hidden in your head_  
><em>The Sorting Hat can't see,<em>  
><em>So try me on and I will tell you<em>  
><em>Where you ought to be.<em>

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
><em>Where dwell the brave at heart,<em>  
><em>Their daring, nerve, and chivalry<em>  
><em>Set Gryffindors apart;<em>

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
><em>Where they are just and loyal,<em>  
><em>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true<em>  
><em>And unafraid of toil;<em>

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
><em>if you've a ready mind,<em>  
><em>Where those of wit and learning,<em>  
><em>Will always find their kind;<em>

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
><em>You'll make your real friends,<em>  
><em>Those cunning folks use any means<em>  
><em>To achieve their ends.<em>

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
><em>And don't get in a flap!<em>  
><em>You're in safe hands (though I have none)<em>  
><em>For I'm a Thinking Cap!<em>

Everyone clapped at the end of the song, and Harry found himself incapable of stopping himself from doing the same.

"We just put on a hat!" Ron grumbled, crossing his arms. "I'm going to kill Fred. He made it sound like we had to wrestle a troll…"

Harry wanted to laugh off his paranoia, but inwardly felt queasy again at the prospect of having to answer questions in front of the whole school. What if he answered something stupid? What if the hat laughed at him? He didn't think he had any of the traits that the hat was talking about.

McGonagall cleared her throat and unraveled a long sheet of parchment in her hands.

"When I call your name, you are to sit on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your house. You are then to go to your House Table," she instructed the new first years.

After a brief pause she held the parchment at arm's length with the Sorting Hat in her other hand. She cleared her throat and began to read down the list.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with little blonde pigtails sheepishly approached the stool. When the hat was perched on her head, it sunk until over her eyes. It began to murmur things Harry couldn't hear. Then, after a few seconds, the hat stiffened before belting loudly–

"Hufflepuff!"

There was applause that followed, and the girl, smiling and red, turned to scamper off to her table.

"Bones, Susan!"

Another girl approached, and once again the hat belted.

"Hufflepuff!"

The girl hastily ran down the aisles of tables before sitting next to Abbott.

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!"

Several more names were called. There was another Ravenclaw by the name of Brockelhurst, a rather thick jawed heavy girl named Bullstrode put in Slytherin, and a miss Brown the first new Gryffindor, who was welcomed by the Weasley twins with loud whistling and cat-calling. As the list of names began to shorten, Harry was positive he was sick. He was anxious to get it over with, but would have much preferred to be sorted in private, away from prying eyes. He sister had taken to latching onto his upper arm almost painfully, but he ignored it, knowing she was just as nervous as he was.

"Granger, Hermione!"

"Gryffindor!"

Harry heard Ron groan as if in pain as he watched the bushy-haired girl smile brightly and trot over to the Gryffindor's applauding table.

Harry watched at Neville approached the stool, and the boy looked beyond nervous. He was almost shaking where he stood, and when the hat was placed on his head and began to speak, he jumped and nearly yelped.

"Gryffindor!" Neville had jumped off the stool and went running towards the right table, before he remembered to take off the Sorting Hat.

McGonagall gave him a stern glare as his peers laughed.

When Harry heard the name "Malfoy," a spiteful thought entered his mind that he hoped that he would be sorted into Slytherin, the house that only seemed to accept the nasty kids. He was not disappointed, for before the hat even touched his slicked blonde head, the hat bellowed loudly –

"Slytherin!"

The boy seemed to swagger over to the table, a wide, pleased grin on his face.

The list was shortening. There were calls from Moon and Nott, Parkinson, a pair of Patil twins and Perks…

Cosette was visibly paling as the list dwindled down. She had a death grip on Harry's arm, and wondered if she was hurting him. The edges of her eyes began to get fuzzy and black, and she momentarily felt like she was going to collapse if it not for her brother's support.

"Potter, Cosette!"

She froze where she stood, unable to move. She wasn't sure if she was capable of movement. She didn't notice as people started to look around for her after her prolonged absence from the stool. She also didn't hear McGonagall call a second time. It wasn't until her brother pushed her slightly towards the front did she move. Her whole body felt like ice as she dragged herself up to the stool, feet feeling like lead.

Harry watched with concern. Her shoulders were tight and tense, head downcast to stare at her feet in such a way that it made her hair tumble into her face, hiding it completely. There were a few snickers at the sight, and the protective part of Harry yearned to find whoever was laughing and teach them a lesson. Sure, his sister looked rather thin and small for her age and her hair had never seen a brush before, making it messy and knotted, but that gave them no right to judge. It wasn't her fault she was malnourished and that made her so gaunt. Harry frowned at his classmates, but made himself focus on his sister, who shakily sat on the stool.

Cosette could feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She could hear the laughing behind her, and wondered if she had already done something stupid. Did she forget something? Was she mistaken and they called someone else's name? Professor McGonagall didn't object as she sat down however, and soon she felt the Sorting Hat on her head. It sunk down over her eyes, blotting out the school from her view. All of a sudden, she felt something pricking into her mind, as if she felt no longer alone inside her own head. Immediately she tensed and her breathing picked up as she tried to control her thoughts.

_Oh, edgy here I see!_ She heard a voice. _Don't worry child, I only want a look around…_

Cosette didn't like the sound of that, and hardly wanted a hat to have access to her most personal thoughts, so she immediately began thinking of memories she felt might scare away the hat. Images of Vernon Dursley came to mind, of him spanking her and her brother with a belt, of having her arm twisted and yanked, her being flung about. She heard the hat laugh, _laugh_ at her, and she felt her resolve crumble.

_Trying to fight me, I see! Don't fight my dear child. You have nothing to fear!_ The hat said. _My, you are determined, I'll give you that. So much like your mother… _

At the mention of her mother, Cosette brightened a little. The reminder that her own parents went through this same thing gave her a little strength.

_Where should I put you then, eh? Gryffindor, like your parents? _

Here Cosette shrunk somewhat. The hat said itself that people were sorted based on their traits. What would it mean then, if she was merely placed in a house simply because her parents were put in there? Did that mean she had no other real traits? She didn't want that to be the reason. She wanted to succeed. She wanted to prove to everyone, the Dursleys, the school… the world, that she could be someone. That she wasn't just a regular, boring, stupid girl. She wanted to make it in life.

_Not Gryffindor , eh? Yes… I believe you are right. You'd do well there, but I see a thirst in you, for knowledge…yes… and, my, you desperately want to prove yourself, don't you! Ambition– it is a great thing. Best not let not an old hat like me get in your way then. I know just the place to help you reach your goals!_

"Slytherin!"

There was some clapping, and Cosette felt professor McGonagall remove the hat, giving her sight once again. The immediate brightness caused her eyes to sting slightly as she hopped off the stool. She briefly caught her brother's shocked face as she was ushered towards the Slytherin table where the students sitting there were cheering for her.

Harry was floored by what the hat said. Had it really just sorted his sister into that house? His gaze followed Cosette as she walked down the table. The rest of the Slytherins nodded at her, but did little else in welcoming her other than clap as she sat at the back of the table. He looked over her housemates, and found none of them looking at all pleasant, rather, they all looked as mean as that Malfoy boy. The hat clearly made a mistake; his sister wasn't one of them!

"Potter, Harry!"

The sound of his name stole his attention, and whatever resonating clapping for his sister died immediately, pushed away by the sudden onslaught of hushed murmurs and whispers.

"Harry Potter?" someone said from the Gryffindor table.

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

"Can you see his scar?" a Hufflepuff girl whispered.

"He'll be in our house, for sure!" someone from Ravenclaw said.

"Wait, wasn't that other girl a Potter, too?"

Harry gulped as he approached McGonagall. Nervously he took a seat on the stool and the hat was placed on his head. His sight disappeared under the hat. He felt something prodding his mind, and curiously waited.

_Difficult…very difficult. Plenty of Courage I see, not a bad mind, either, plenty of talent, too. And, ah! A thirst to prove yourself, just like your sister! How interesting, I know you'll both do well in Slytherin…_

"No," Harry whispered.

_Not Slytherin. _As much as he wanted to be there for Cosette, he didn't want to be sorted into that house.

_Not Slytherin, eh? _The Hat said. Harry gripped the edges of the stool so tightly, his fingers turned white. He couldn't be sorted into that house. He knew deep down that he belonged somewhere else. _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._

_Are you sure? Slytherin will make you great you know, that's why I put your sister there. She wanted to succeed…she has great plans ahead of her… Slytherin will help you on your way there._

"No," he murmured.

_Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin._

The hat looked disgruntled._ Why are both you and your twin so stubborn about which house is best for you? I'm the Sorting Hat! I know what's best for you!_

After several long seconds, the hat heaved a sigh in forfeit, before bellowing loudly –

"Gryffindor!"

The applause that followed was louder than any previous. The whole of Gryffindor table stood up, cheering wildly. The two Weasley twins had begun dancing around the table, singing merrily, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" and blowing raspberries at the neighboring tables.

Shakily, the hat was removed and he made his way over to the boisterous table. Prefect Percy smiled at him, patting his back as he sat down. He was then assaulted by the remainder of his house; all wanting to shake his hand and congratulate him.

Cosette watched her brother's sorting, desperately wishing that the hat would put them in the same house. They couldn't be separated, right? They were twins! She began ringing her fingers again as she watched. The hat was taking surprisingly long to sort her brother, and it was doing nothing but strengthening her anxiety. Finally, the hat stiffened, and for a second, all was quiet. Cosette held her breath.

"Gryffindor!"

Cosette's heart sank. Her face bent into a miserable frown as she watched her brother go off to the table on the far opposite of her own. Everyone was cheering so loudly for him, and Cosette had to cover her ears. She should have known her brother would have been given a standing ovation. This whole world seemed to idolize him for some reason.

Miserably, Cosette fell back on her bench. It took the teachers several minutes to quiet down the school enough to continue the sorting, which Cosette barely paid attention to. She only registered that Harry's new friend, the Weasley boy, was sorted into Gryffindor as well. She had made sure she sat on the end of the table to avoid all the other kids. While a group of them surely didn't look friendly, it was more out of her own self-consciousness. She huddled by herself, staring down at the golden dish in front of her, wishing for the world to just disappear.

Being as his sister chose to sit the farthest away, Harry couldn't find her after the commotion was taken under control. Ron was sitting next to him, and so he busied himself to talking to him and looking at the Head table. It was lined with the professors, and in the middle rested an elderly wizard that Harry recognized immediately as Albus Dumbledore from the Chocolate Frog's card. The man had a twinkle in his eye when their eyes met, and Harry gave a broad grin. Going down the table he also spotted Professor Quirrell, who was feverishly messing with the purple turban on his head. When the last boy was called –one Slytherin by the name Blaise Zabini, Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, and took the empty seat next to Dumbledore who rose from his own.

The man's white beard nearly reached his plate, and his robes were a bright vibrant purple color. He was smiling over at all the students and he gently opened his arms wide.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" Dumbledore announced. "Before we begin with the banquet, I have a few words that I'd like to say, and they are: Bouffant! Mukluk! Foible! Tuberculosis!"

Harry blinked.

"That is all, thank you!"

As he sat down, Harry was left to stare in bewilderment.

"Is he…mad?" he asked Percy.

"Professor Dumbledore is a genius! Best Wizard in the world…but maybe a tad bit mad," Percy shrugged. "Potatoes?"

Harry thought for a split second that Percy had to have been infected with whatever disease made Dumbledore spout out random words before he noticed the piles of food that now filled the once empty golden trays. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. His eyes scanned over the crowning plates of food. Mountains of potatoes sprinkled with parsley followed next to a plate of steaming roasted chicken, skin baked a golden brown. There were plates of beef, roasted and ground, and salads in bowls large enough to fit a ham.

Harry, who had been starved most of his life, eagerly tucked in. He had never been allowed to eat much of anything, and the sights before him made him eager to try everything.

"That does look awfully good," said a voice to Harry's left.

He turned to see one of the ghosts ogling his plate, and Harry was sure that if it were possible for ghosts, he would be drooling.

"Erm… do you want any…?" Harry asked sheepishly, unsure if it was even possible, but feeling politeness required it.

The ghost wistfully looked at the food before shaking his head.

"Ghosts can't eat. I haven't tasted food for a long time. I do miss it, though," he sighed.

"Forgive me; My name is Sir Nicholas, de Mimsy-porpington, resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower, at your service." He gave a slight bow, and Harry watched amazed as his upper torso slipped through the table as he bowed.

"I know who you are!" Ron brightened.

His face was caked with grease and his mouth was full of chicken, as he had two drumsticks in both his hands.

"My brother's told me about you, you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

Sir Nichols looked miffed by this comment, and he gave an undignified sniff.

"I prefer the name Sir Nicholas –"

"_Nearly_ Headless?" said a voice from a student at the upper end of the table. "How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas gave a tight frown.

"Like this," here he grabbed hold of the side of his head and pulled.

Without so much as a squelching sound, his head rolled to the side as if on a hinge, held together simply by a flap of skin. He flashed the students a plain view of what exactly the inside of your neck looks like. Many students shrieked and gasped, and quite a few choruses of "Ewww…" were given. Unperturbed, Sir Nicholas jerked his translucent body in such a way that it cause his head to fly back into place.

"So tell me, Gryffindors! Are you going to help win back the Cup this year? I have to tell you I am awfully tired to seeing it resting in the Slytherin's clutches; they've had it for six years. I tell you, the Bloody Baron is always flying about looking so smug about it!"

Harry, at the mention of Slytherin, turned his head in order to find this "Bloody Baron" ghost. It didn't take long to spot the translucent silhouette of the Slytherin ghost. He was vested like a royal, only his face was gaunt and sunken in and his robes were covered in a silvery spray of ghostly blood. With a bit of mirth, Harry noted that he had taken roost right next to Draco Malfoy, who looked less that pleased with the seating arrangement.

"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked curiously.

Sir Nicholas took on a serious expression.

"I don't know, I've never heard him speak before in the five-hundred seventy-one years of being here."

When the food had appeared on the table magically, Cosette nearly jumped out of her skin. After the Headmaster had spoken the most ridiculous spout of nonsense she had ever heard, the food had suddenly filled the tables. It all looked so good, and Cosette was half afraid it was all a mirage, that if she reached out for something, it would vanish. It was similar to the times when Cosette was given food at the Dursleys, only to have Dudley yank it from her hands and laugh at her while he stuffed it into his own face.

She wasted no time in piling food on her plate, wanting to try everything, and hoping against all odds that none of it was _magical_ like the candies on the train. She really didn't feel in the mood to deal with it if her chicken suddenly came to life and berated her for eating its left leg.

The meal had gone by slowly for her, as when she realized the food wasn't going anywhere (nor would it talk to her), she began to gorge herself, having been starved half her life. She was eating very quickly and heavily in a very un-lady-like manner, though she could hardly be blamed, she still received several stares from her neighbors at the table. When she realized the stares she was receiving she stopped eating in this fashion immediately, turning quite red. She put down her food and wiped her hands and face on her napkin and began instead to eat in a more docile matter that was even slower than anyone else was eating. She was just about to dig into her vegetables, when she heard the unmistakable sound of someone sitting down next to her. Hesitantly she turned her head to look at who was sitting next to her, careful to make sure that her hair was still firmly in place to hide her face.

The boy next to her was unquestionably older then her, maybe one or two years. He was much taller and had rather long straight blonde hair which he kept in a ponytail. His features were decidedly handsome, high cheekbones and a prominent widow's peak, but it was his smile that made her tense. His grin was rather wide. He had nice, bright white teeth and as he stared at her she couldn't help but think that he smiled in an uncanny way that reminded Cosette of the Cheshire cat from a book she once read. It had a sort of manic gleam to it, though friendly, it looked more than a bit insane.

"Hi…" he drawled out, blue eyes flashing.

"Um… hi," she said meekly, and then hastily turned back to her dinner, trying to ignore the creepy older boy.

She scooted farther away from him. There was silence for several minutes, and Cosette wondered if she had successfully scared him away. None of the other kids had bothered to come over and talk to her, so she wondered why this boy was suddenly an exception. He sighed overdramatically after a while, and a chance look let her know he was still grinning at her.

"Man, its _suure_ nice being anti-social," his eyes danced up onto the ceiling, as if something infinitely interesting was taking place.

She took a glance at it just to make sure, but there wasn't anything there that warranted his contemplative look.

"I like being anti-social. It's… quiet," he said wistfully. "Wanna be anti-social together?"

Cosette had no idea what he wanted from her. Her brows creased as she observed the kid. Was everyone at this school crazy?

"So, yeah…" he turned to look at her; he raised an eyebrow quite charmingly. "So, what's your name then, oh fellow anti-social one?"

Cosette didn't really want to talk to this boy anymore for he was severely creeping her out. She wished that he would just leave her alone, but doubted he would do so unless she answered his question first.

"Cosette," she barely whispered out, hoping that this would be enough to ward him off.

He nodded his head, bright toothy smile grinning.

"That's _awesome_," he said for no reason.

What was awesome? Her name? He didn't elaborate however, only nodded his head as if her reply answered every question in the world.

"You want to know my name?" he asked, and Cosette didn't know what to answer.

On the one hand, she didn't want to have any more to do with this boy, on the other; at least she would have a name to the ridiculously strange boy.

She watched as he cleared his throat loudly, apparently not needing an answer to his question.

"Brujon Alajandro De-la Vega Ingvar Bandeaux Esquire IV." Cosette stared at the boy, blinking. Unsure what she was supposed to say to _that._

Before she could even think of something to say, he quickly added, "But you can call me Melvin."

She continued to stare at him as if he had just landed from another planet. What was wrong with this kid? This kid had to have had a screw loose. Cosette found herself once again slowly inching away from him.

"Well, anyway, bye!"

Just like that, in a flurry of green robes and perfect hair, he was gone. Back down the table he _pranced _until he disappeared from her view in the sea of black robes. It was quiet around her, and Cosette didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse. Silently she went back to her food, picking at it nervously, every now and then giving the empty seat next to her a nervous look, like another crazy person would strike up the nerve to talk to her. What made him approach anyway? Was it because she was secluding herself? Whatever the case may be, if this was what her housemates would be like, she was starting to regret not letting the hat put her in Gryffindor.

The feast progressed at a slow pleasant pace. Harry and Ron chatted cheerfully and the plates that food was placed on seemed to periodically refill itself. Fred and George sat down on either side of Harry and Ron while Percy shot an occasional disapproving glare at his brothers as Fred and George performed some form of a party trick every now and then.

"Say Harry, I have a question," Fred asked somewhat suddenly interrupting the line of conversation.

Harry turned to Fred curious to hear the question.

"That girl that was sorted into Slytherin earlier, she was on the train with you and she has the same last name."

Harry knew what Fred's question was and it made him feel somewhat ashamed because he had completely forgot about Cosette as soon as the food had appeared. He answered Fred's unasked question and turned guiltily back to his food.

"Yeah, she's my twin sister…"

Harry was glad that the Weasley twins noticed his change in mood and decided to try lightening the atmosphere.

"You have a twin?" George said in an over dramatic way.

"Crikey mate that's awesome, sometimes I wonder what it's like to have a twin…" Fred said equally as dramatic.

At this George responded pretending to be deeply hurt and angry.

"What am I then?" he asked Fred.

Fred looked at George as if he had just noticed him.

"Who the hell are you?"

Harry didn't catch the rest of what they said because he still felt rather guilty. Not only had he not protested her sorting, he hadn't made any attempt to save her from the Slytherins. He strained his neck around trying to see where she was, who knew what could happen to her at a table full of the most rotten kids in the school without Harry there to protect her. He felt himself regretting not letting the Sorting Hat sort him into Slytherin… No he was sorted into the right house, there was just a mistake when Cosette was sorted, he was sure of it.

Harry stood up out of his seat to see if he could get a better view of the opposite side of the hall. It was only then that Ron noticed something was up with Harry and he paused from gorging himself briefly.

"Something wrong Harry?" Ron asked licking grease off his hand.

He was lucky to be wearing hand-me-downs because the stains he had already sustained on his clothes would have been extremely offensive on new robes.

"I'm just wondering if my sister is alright."

Ron gazed at Harry awkwardly before responding.

"She'll be fine… I mean I know all the Slytherin's are a bad lot but if she's related to you I think she'll have the sense to stay away from them."

Harry finally spotted his sister and felt that Ron must be right for she was sitting a great distance away from the rest of the house. With the exception of a blond haired boy who was boisterously laughing almost uncontrollably. He seemed like a cheery enough person though he seemed to be unnerving to his sister. He decided that he should go over, take her from the table and go directly to one of the professors to ask for a private resorting. Although this resolve seemed a bit ridiculous, he could at least for now ask the boy sitting next to her to leave his sister alone. So, unsure of what he was going to do, he began to make his way across the hall.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked in mild alarm.

"Don't worry; I'll be back in a minute."

Without anything to say, Ron simply watched as Harry made his way over to the Slytherin table. People peered and watched as Harry walked, Harry started to feel rather uncomfortable as several people strained their necks to try and see his scar. Harry felt less confidant about whatever he was about to do as he reached the Slytherin table. He was about to address the blond boy next to his sister but before he could the boy jumped up and half ran around the table.

"Eya! You're that snot-nosed famous kid that was sorted into Gryffindor!"

Harry looked at him perturbed.

"My name's Melvin, how the hell are ya?" he said outstretching his hand to shake it. Many people at the Slytherin table shot the pair of them icy glares while those at the neighboring Ravenclaw table watched curiously.

"Er- yeah…" Harry said not exactly sure what conversation with this person entailed. "Listen, I was wondering if you could leave my sister alone for a bit."

Melvin blinked, his gaze shifted back towards Cosette who was fidgeting nervously in her seat. With his hand still outstretched, he grinned widely.

"Why? We're being unsociable together," he paused for a second, eyebrows waggling, and then asked as an afterthought, "Hey! You wanna be anti-social with us?"

Harry furrowed his brows and stared at Melvin.

"No, I er… Cosette…?" he looked over at his sister, who was nervously shifting her eyes between the two.

With the sound of her name, Cosette perked up and opened her mouth as if to speak, but another voice cut in.

"Potter! What are you doing on this side of the Great Hall?" the sneering voice of Draco Malfoy soon came into the mix as he sauntered up to the table, his two lackeys behind him. "In case you haven't noticed, this is the _Slytherin_ table. We have no use for _your_ kind here."

Malfoy's face had broken into an arrogant smirk, as if his comment was a very satisfying comeback. Harry glared at the boy, shifting his attention from Melvin to Malfoy.

"Not that it's your business, but I'm just talking to my sister."

At this, Malfoy's brow rose clear up to his hairline.

"Sister?"

All sets of eyes fell onto Cosette, who was trying as hard as she could to shrink away. Malfoy's eyes shifted briefly towards her, their eyes locked and Cosette quickly looked away.

"Sorted into Slytherin, was she? Well, at least one of the members of your family has some class. Not that the same can be said about you."

The two boys were still glaring murderously at each other, when Melvin thought this is be the perfect time to introduce himself.

"Hi, my name is Melvin, how the hell are ya?"

Malfoy had switched his gaze to the grinning blonde, and his angry expression changed to one of confusion, as if he hadn't noticed the kid was standing there. He quickly darted his eyes from head to toe, before sneering.

"Is there a problem here?"

All of them had jumped slightly at the new voice, one that seemed to come from over them. Harry's eyes flickered to the source and he felt like shrinking back. The voice belongs to a tall, rail thin man with pale skin and greasy black hair. His black eyes were glaring at all of them with unhidden irritation, and when his eyes met Harry, they seemed to narrow.

Draco turned fully around, eyes growing wide, but quickly he wiped the expression of his face and smirked.

"No, Professor Snape. We were just getting a few things straightened out."

"Then you won't mind returning to you seat then, Mr. Malfoy…?"

The man's bitter gaze hadn't lifted from Harry, and he was under the distinct notion that the teacher didn't like him very much. There seemed to be something about this professor that set off warning bells inside his head. His glare caused him to shiver.

Malfoy turned to leave, throwing a nasty smirk over his shoulder to Harry as he left.

"See you in class," he sneered before he and his gang left. The two remaining boys stood there in silence, as Snape continued to glare from under his large, hooked nose. A sneer curled on his lips.

"The school year hasn't even started yet, and already you feel the need to cause trouble? Last I checked, Mr. Potter, the Gryffindor Table was on the other side of the room. Surely someone with your great _talent_ hasn't lost their way."

"No…" Harry cleared his throat, not understanding this teacher's malice towards him. "No sir, I was just seeing my sister." Harry darted his eyes across the table, where his sister was almost hidden under the table.

Harry watched as the professor's eyes flickered towards his sister, but they didn't stay long. In a second, his eyes were back to glaring at him. If Harry had blinked, he would have completely missed the exchange. Snape rose a brow at Harry, and he quickly ascertained that he should return to his own seat at Gryffindor—and fast.

"I'll see you later, Cosette," Harry said regretfully. He wanted to sit down and actually talk to his sister, but with the menacing glower from Professor Snape, he was sure he wouldn't be able to. Cosette gave him a slight nod and Harry turned to walk back to his table.

Left standing there was Melvin. Cosette sat there wondering what the boy would do now that the intimidating Professor was standing there and glaring at the back of her brother's head. She didn't know why exactly the kid liked to have the most inopportune times to make his presence known, or if he had a secret death wish –but right as Harry disappeared, he spun on his heel, grinning from ear to ear and stuck out his still outstretched hand to the professor.

"Hi, my name is Melvin –"

The professor immediately shifted his eyes to Melvin, where they narrowed with a familiar irritation.

"Sit down, Mr. Aguillard!"

Unperturbed, Melvin turned and pranced up the table, thankfully away from her. The menacing professor then turned and marched back up towards the Head table, not even giving Cosette a backwards glance, his black robes billowing behind him. She wondered if perhaps she had offended him in some way for him to brush her off, but quickly determined that this was definitely preferable to inferring the wrath of Professor Snape.

Harry took his previous seat across from Ron who was pale beyond comparison.

"What happened?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry quickly recounted the events the occurred by the Slytherin table. He put particular emphasis on the professor's menacing glare that he did not abate towards him.

"Blimey mate, you're lucky. My brothers told me about that professor."

"Who is he?" Harry asked.

"I think that's Professor Snape, though I could be wrong. I never saw him before."

"I think you're right, that's what Malfoy called him."

Ron nodded pointedly.

"I don't think he likes me very much," Harry added.

"Don't worry, from what my brothers have told me, well besides Percy, Snape doesn't like anyone. I don't think that grease ball even cares if you're famous."

Fred and George sat down on either side of Harry. They were red in the face and fairly sweaty, as if they had been running very fast.

"Where did you two go off two?" Ron asked looking somewhat annoyed.

Fred smirked and looked over at Ron.

"Sorry, we had important business to attend to; we couldn't find a babysitter for you in time."

"Don't worry though, we'll hold your hand if you need to use the bathroom or something," George added dismissively.

Ron's ears went very red and he returned furiously to his food, his head downcast.

"Shut up…" he murmured back at them but neither took much notice.

Instead their attention turned to Harry, who they were looking at rather expectantly.

"So what happened over at the Slytherin table?"

Harry recounted the events for a second time to the twins who eagerly listened.

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about Snape, he doesn't like anyone."

"Well anyone except us," George added.

"Well our natural charisma overpowers everyone," Fred agreed. "But you don't have that natural advantage, Harry. Anyway, he teaches potions, but everyone knows it's the Defense Against the Dark Arts position he's after. "

"I just hope Cosette's okay…" Harry said.

"Wasn't she the reason you went over there?"

"Yeah, she was being bothered by this other Slytherin kid."

"What was he doing?" George inquired.

"…I really… don't know…"

Harry again retold the events that occurred over at the Slytherin table this time adding in what Melvin had done and said.

"Wonder what that kid was playing at," Fred asked rhetorically.

George looked as though he was about to say something when somewhat suddenly the food in front of them vanished and was replaced with many different delicious looking desserts. There was everything here that could possibly please anyone's cravings. There was fruit and custard trifle, many different types of shortcakes, red jelly in impressive towers surrounded by grapes at the base, treacle tarts with clotted cream, chocolate pudding, as well as Scottish shortbread and ice cream aplenty. The smell was wonderful, and made one feel full and happy before having even eaten anything.

Despite all this Harry did not seem as keenly interested in the desserts that had materialized in front of him as Ron did. Ron proceeded to gorge himself on all the desserts within reach as he had done with the actual meal. After several long moments Ron seemed to notice Harry's prolonged silence and paused in his eating, struggling to swallow the food in his mouth for a moment.

"What's wrong Harry?" he asked some food still in his mouth.

"Do you think I should have just left my sister there like that? You know, with those people?"

Ron looked at Harry, a rather puzzled look on his face before he gave his answer.

"Well it's not like there is much you can do, can you?" Ron said. "Like you said, Snape didn't seem to like you very much."

"You said that he doesn't like anyone."

"Well yeah, but you said yourself that Snape didn't seem to like you in particular."

Harry was silent for a moment.

"I think your sister will be fine, I mean that kid from earlier is leaving her alone now."

Harry turned and saw that Ron was indeed right. His sister was sitting by her lonesome self carefully inspecting the desserts that had just appeared before her.

"Really Harry, I mean do you really want to make sure you get on Snape's bad side on the first day of school?"

There was a long pause and finally Harry nodded and said.

"Yeah I guess you're right."

Ron gave Harry a relieved look as he offered him some treacle tart which he accepted gratefully. Slowly the tension eased and thoughts of Cosette were pushed to the back of Harry's head.


	9. The Begining of Term

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 9<p>

The Beginning of Term

Cosette did not feel hungry any longer, even when the desserts appeared. She didn't even bother investigating the food to see if it was safe to eat; she simply sat with her head downcast. She sat in silence for a very long time, the idle chatter around her carefree. She couldn't help but feel that some of the chatter was people talking about her, and felt herself sink lower and wished more than anything that she could just shrink away and disappear.

Harry on the other hand, was having an experience of quite the opposite nature and was boisterously enjoying the company of his new found friends. Ron and he had become almost instant companions since the train, and everyone at Gryffindor was more than happy to be friendly with him because of his famous status.

When the dessert plates were cleaned up, and even Ron seemed to be stuffed, Headmaster Dumbledore stood once again. Everyone in the Great Hall quieted down at his hands.

"I have a few start-of-terms announcements to make," Dumbledore's eyes sparkled from behind his half-moon spectacles.

"First, our caretaker, Argus Filch, would like me to remind all of you that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds to all students."

Harry looked over to the corner, where a gangly oily man was standing, holding a tabby cat with fiendish eyes. He had a very unpleasant look in his eyes as he surveyed the schoolchildren. From what the older boys had said, he hated children and was always talking about the old torture methods they used to employ for detention.

"I would also like to announce that the third floor corridor is forbidden to all students who do not wish to die a most painful death," Dumbledore said while wearing a beaming smile.

All of Gryffindor burst into quiet murmurs, and Harry and Ron exchanged nervous, fearful glances. Harry wasn't sure if the Headmaster was being serious or not. This was the man who, at the beginning of the feast, had humorously said a bunch of random nonsense. Surely there wouldn't be anything in the school that could harm, or kill anyone –right?

"School prefects will escort first years to their common rooms. I would like to once again welcome you back to Hogwarts, and I hope you all have a pleasant and eventful year!"

The noise had picked back up after Dumbledore dismissed them all. Percy stood up, and began rounding up the first years. Harry stood next to Ron as the group followed Percy out of the Great Hall. Through the mass crowds of people, Harry couldn't see his sister, and therefore couldn't wish her a goodnight. Percy led them all up the winding, sometimes crooked stairways of the school up to the tallest tower, where Percy had said laid the Gryffindor common room. Along the way, Harry stared at the detailed oil paintings, and how the occupants therein would smile and wave at them in greeting. The stairs themselves were tricky, for they often moved. On different days the stairs led somewhere else, and sometimes to nowhere at all. Some of the steps could turn invisible or vanish, and many people tripped. The ceiling seemed to go on forever, and below the stairs was what looked like a bottomless pit. There were doors that moved and others that disappeared completely. He was positive that if he didn't follow Percy, he would have been lost in the school, and could have been left wandering for days before finding his way back. He couldn't even seem to memorize all the turns and ascensions they made to successfully find his way from the Great Hall to his own common room.

During their journey, they had paused slightly from a ruckus above them. Some invisible force was throwing what looked like pickup sticks at them. Percy glared up at the unseen foe.

"Peeves!"

Harry looked on confused as a giggling entity suddenly materialized. A rather stout, dwarven sized man appeared with a mischievous grin. He was floating, but unlike the ghosts, was completely solid looking and colorful. His stubby legs were crossed midair and in his hands were the offensive sticks.

"He-he-he-he Icky Ittsy-bitty Firsty First years! He-he-ha-ha!" he continued in a joyful manner, still throwing things.

The students ducked and covered their heads.

"Leave now Peeves, before I find the Bloody Baron!" Percy shot over Peeve's laughter.

It seemed to shut him up, as he took a nervous gulp before sticking his tongue out at Percy and disappearing from sight.

"George told me about him," Ron muttered to Harry as they continued their way up. "That's Peeves the Poltergeist. He said he does nothing but pull pranks all day, especially on the first years. Though, George says he's scared to death of the Bloody Baron."

Was there a difference between a poltergeist and a ghost? Harry wasn't sure what exactly made them so different, or why the ghosts were transparent and washed out looking and poltergeists could almost pass for the living. Harry shrugged and didn't dwell on it anymore as they continued on their way. After what felt like a life time, they finally made it to stand before a large oil painting of what appeared to be a large, fat woman in pink robes. She stood there elegantly poised against a pedestal and gazed at all of them.

"Password?" she spoke loudly.

Percy stood up straight.

"Capet Draconus."

The portrait swung open, giving them entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

Inside was a large, ceiling-less room covered in medieval looking tapestries. A large roaring fire was burning in the marbled hearth. Pillars of gold lined the walls and chandeliers hung from above. The whole space was occupied by the warming colors of red and gold and the proud Gryffindor Crest loomed overhead the fire. The wooden floor was covered by thick, intricately woven rugs and thick plush couches of a deep rust color occupied the space in front of the fireplace. Statues of many lions, frozen mid-roared were also decked about. Large multi-paneled glass windows filtered in the moonlight.

Harry's eyes went wide, and he could barely snap himself out of his gaping to listen to Percy.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. You will be spending much of your free time here. Boys' dormitories are through those doors, up the stairs to the right, girls, the same on the left. Don't try anything funny, either. The steps are enchanted to keep them separated," his eyes danced over the bunch as some of the kids gave impish sort of looks.

"You will find that your belongings have already been brought up. Please make sure you get up in time for breakfast at five thirty a.m. sharp."

"Five-thirty!" one student groaned loudly, "What time does breakfast start?"

"It begins at six and ends at seven forty-five."

With that, Percy had disappeared, leaving Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors to run up to their beds to unpack. Harry quickly went up the stairs, finding a dorm room marked 'first year tower'. He entered to find himself in a circular room with many other doors. Each door was a vibrant shade of red and had the names of the occupants of each room on it. Harry noted that a flight of stairs led to more rooms above. He looked at the first few doors, not seeing his name on it. He went to the second floor to find his name printed on the second of the round doors. He entered the room to find himself in another circular room, though this one was much smaller. A window overlooked the grounds on the far side of the room and five beds aligned the walls. There was a small coal stocker that was a gleaming copper color in the center of the wooden floor and aside from this, the room was empty. A second door on the side led to a bathroom which Harry made good note of.

Quickly, Harry had spotted his trunk and made sure to grab a bed next to Ron. He hadn't stayed up long after, even with the noisy chatter of excited first years about him. The whole day exhausted him, and he soon found himself in a restful sleep.

Cosette was very fortunate in one matter. Her common room was much easier to get to than Harry's. One tall browned hair boy, who introduced himself as Charlemagne Nott, told them to follow him. Noting that he was a Slytherin Prefect, she followed the other first years. It was a straight shot from the Great Hall to the steps that descended to the dungeons. It was a bit creepy at first to step deeper into the dark, echoing place, but she quickly got over the initial fear. She was well used to cramped, dark places, having spent the better part of her life under the stairs in the Dursley's home.

From there, they followed the glowing light of torches, making several turns, until they came across one blank wall. Curiously, Cosette observed as Charlemagne stepped in front of it and muttered the word "belladonna." There, just like the wall in the Leaky Cauldron, the bricks shifted and parted, giving way to the common room.

Inside was just as claustrophobic as the rest of the dudgeon. The ceiling was low, and since there were no windows, the only available light source was the enchanted torches and fireplace. Everything in sight had a silver or green accent. Large columns looked to be made of solid black marble. There were silver and green lined Slytherin crests, crushed velvet emerald throws, and deep olive leather sofas. There were grotesques with snarling, rabid expressions and skulls and serpents decorated the walls and furniture. The whole space had a very Victorian Gothic style, and the dark setting could very much be a morbid child's dream. To anyone else, the creepy atmosphere was rather daunting, cold and depressing.

She only half listened as the Prefect told them where their sleeping quarters were, and she seemed suddenly nervous when it was brought to her attention that the common room was actually directly under the Black Lake. While many of the students began mulling about the fire, Cosette silently went to the door leading to the dormitories. As she vaguely recalled the Prefect saying there were indeed two staircases, one leading up, the other leading down. What she didn't remember was which one led to the girls' dorms and which one led to the boys' dorm. This was fortunately answered for her as she saw a boy walk down the stairs on the left. She immediately took the stairs on the right up to a long hallway. She was wondering which door she was meant to take; she saw no indication on where she should go. The hallway was uniform in every way, with tall green doors facing each other on either side. She was unsure of what to do and grew a bit nervous. After pacing the hall a few times she finally spotted a billboard at the stairs which had a large roster pinned to it. She quickly found her name and which room she was assigned. She went to that room immediately.

The room looked very much like the common room. Black marble and low ceiling, though this room was carpeted and green tapestries hung from the ceiling. Enchanted green lanterns festooned the walls. There was a small trap door in the corner, which turned out to lead to a luxurious bathroom, and in the opposite corner was a large marble fireplace, which was at the moment, empty. The room had a presence, much the same way the common room did. It had an old oil painting on the wall of a forest landscape above the mantelpiece as well an old fashioned Victorian clock that sat on it.

Her trunk was already by the foot of one of the four beds in the room, but she moved it, placing it under the bed. There were a few other girls there, but when she approached, they snickered and pointed at her. Cosette's face dropped, avoiding their stares and laughter, hoping that they would ignore her like everyone else. With a few more giggles, the group of girls then turned and walked out of the dorm into the main room.

She let out a sigh and sat on the bed, listening to the happy laughter of the other students echo in the dank space, only wishing that she could go find her brother. She wasn't at all tired in the least bit. She was still terrified to be by herself, and not for the first time, wished that her brother had been sorted into her house. Her brother was strong. He didn't seem to have this dependency on her that she had on him. She relied on him for practically everything. He protected her and cared for her because no one else did. Surely he wouldn't be sitting on his bed moping about. Yet, this was the first time she had ever been alone. She had always slept with her brother by her side, and while she consciously knew that it couldn't always be like that, to suddenly have him yanked away so fast made her feel more than vulnerable.

She already had made an impression, as the Slytherin girls just curled their lips at her and walked off. They were all pretty girls, girls with flowing, neat hair and gorgeous smiles. Cosette picked at the knotty ends of her hair; probably the source of their amusement. She had never had a haircut before in her life, and Aunt Petunia never let her use a brush before. Feverishly, Cosette combed through her hair with her fingers, as if that alone would somehow make it more tamable. It was no use, no matter how much she tried; it still looked wiry, matted and tangled.

Cosette noticed the curtain around her bed, and when she heard the babble of the other students, decided that erecting the curtain would make the perfect defensive shield against any attempts any of them would have of approaching her. It wasn't that she didn't want to make friends— but at the moment, she was too nervous and afraid to do anything but shy away. Maybe tomorrow she'd be strong enough to actually face someone, as long as it wasn't that Melvin kid.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but she could eventually hear the other girls murmur and climb into the accompanying beds. She hadn't even bothered changing her clothes, and she didn't know exactly when it happened, but eventually as she was curled up against herself so that her knees touched her chin, Cosette cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a severe stomach ache. At first he didn't know what had caused it, and he let out a groan, grasping his stomach in pain. When he finally opened his eyes and squinted around, he was pleased to see that he was still in his dorm room, and that it hadn't all been a wonderful dream. Harry woke in an instant, any remains of sleep vanished from his mind as he pulled his glasses to his face, quickly turning around to shake his sister awake so she too could see that this was real. He stopped when he remembered that she wasn't there, that since she was sorted into another house, she would be in a completely different part of the castle. He frowned a bit. They had never been separated from each other so long, and he felt a tug of pain at the thought. He just hoped that wherever she was, she was doing alright.

Ron was already up and throwing on his new uniform. When Harry pulled back the curtain around his bed, Ron turned to him with a grin and yanked at his robes.

"Not bad, eh?" he said, pointing out the new gold and red lion's crest on his robe. His tie was also striped with the house colors, like the other students in their house at dinner.

Harry nodded, and then groaned when he got up, his stomach revolting.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked with a concerned look on his face.

"I think I ate too much last night," Harry cringed, remembering in detail the rapid procession in which he consumed his food. "I'm not used to eating so much, and I think I went a little overboard."

"You'll be alright to start classes, right?" Ron looked nervous.

"Yeah," Harry assured him quickly. There could never be anything that could impede him from starting his school day, nothing in the world.

"Alright then," Ron nodded. "You better get ready; we'll go to breakfast together. I'll wait for you."

"Thanks," Harry reached for his robes—which were now Gryffindor robes, and headed towards the bathroom to get ready. Hopefully by the time they reach the Great Hall, his stomach would settle.

Down in the dungeons, Cosette was awoken by the quiet murmurs of students and idle noise. She was always a light sleeper—constantly looking out for when the Dursleys called—and so the smallest of sounds roused her. She sighed heavily, her eyes stinging slightly. When she opened her eyes to gaze around, she sat bolt upright in bed. For one terrifying moment, Cosette couldn't remember where she was. When her memory returned, she sagged a bit in relief, and then quickly looked for the time.

Pulling back the curtain, she saw her housemate's mulling about, chatting, fixing their hair and clothes, and strangely, a few even walked around in their underwear. She made a face, not sure what to expect from this; was she expected to take off her clothes and change in front of the other girls, too? Cosette sincerely hoped not. She couldn't deal with it if they poked fun at her bony, gawky body–they already poked fun at her hair.

The clock above the mantelpiece said that she had half an hour before breakfast, the lanterns also changed the color of their light to reflect the time of day, and so Cosette went to go look for her school robes, only to realize that she was wearing one set already. Apparently –and unfortunately—her housemate's seemed to notice this too.

"Did you honestly sleep in your clothes?" one girl snickered.

Cosette turned a dark shade of red, looking down at her wrinkled school robes.

"Well… I… I fell asleep in them…"

The girls sniggered at her, not even listening to her weak excuse.

"That's gross," the girl wrinkled her nose. She had short cropped dark hair and a rather puggish face. The girl next to her nodded in agreement. She was a tall girl with long blonde hair.

"What's your name, anyway?" the blonde asked. She raised a brow, in an accusing sort of way that made Cosette fidget under the scrutiny.

"C-Cosette," she murmured.

"Your last name," she rolled her eyes, as if her first name wasn't good enough, and her last name would impart her own value.

"Potter."

Both the blonde and the dark haired girl stared at her with wide eyes.

"Potter? Did she just say Potter, Pansy?" the blonde asked.

"Yes Camille, she did," said Pansy.

Cosette knew what was coming next before either one even spoke a word. She just wished that she could hurry up to the bathroom to get ready for breakfast.

Camille approached her warily, and Cosette inched back a bit.

"Potter you say? Are you related to Harry Potter?"

"He's my brother," Cosette's lip twitched slightly.

Camille scoffed, sticking up her nose.

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie about that?" Cosette was starting to get annoyed with the girls. Why was it that no one paid any attention to her the minute they learned about her brother?

"Don't get smart with me!" Camille said nastily. "If Harry Potter had a sister, I'd know about it. My father works in a real important place, _The Ministry of Magic_ you know, and I've never heard of you."

It was all a very tiresome fiasco. Her brother was famous, and she was not. No one knew she existed, which normally would make her pleased, but every time someone brought it up, it made her depressed, and a bit angry.

"It doesn't matter to me if you believe me or not," Cosette muttered quietly. "He is my brother."

Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed her blonde friend, who looked about ready to tackle Cosette in rage.

"Whatever. Nott, she's not worth it. If she has delusions of being related to Potter, then just leave her be. Besides, we don't want to miss breakfast because of _her_."

The two girls stuck up their noses before sauntering out of the room. Cosette stood there for a while, watching them disappear out the dormitory before she deemed it safe to go to the showers. When she got out, she knew she was running late. The two girls had already held her up some, and Cosette had to get out a different pair of school robes. She had learned that while they were asleep, a House Elf (whatever that was) was supposed to come and magic their uniforms to bare the proper crest of their house. Since she had fallen asleep in one of her pair, she had to send it off and grab a fresh set.

Cosette had made sure to double check every aspect of her robes before exiting the dorm room, making sure there were no wrinkles or loose lint stuck to them. She made sure her green and silver tie was straight, socks were pulled all the way up and shirt properly tucked into her skirt. She was terrified that someone else would point out her embarrassing messed up appearance and she didn't want to give them the ammunition they needed to do it.

The common room was fairly quiet, only some older students there apparently skipping breakfast to talk amongst themselves. When she stepped out, the talking stopped and their eyes turned to her. Cosette made sure her head was down cast so her hair fell into her face, obstructing it in such a way that she hoped would hide her identity. Just when she was about to exit the room, one of the boys stood up and practically flew in front of her.

"Is is true that you're Harry Potter's sister?" he asked.

He looked to be at least fifteen years old and had fair hair. His eyes weren't as mean and scrutinizing as Camille or Pansy's, but there was something in his eyes that made her nervous.

"Y-Yes," she had always had the terrible habit of stuttering when nervous.

The boy turned his head over to his friend.

"You hear that Hal? Potter has a sister! I told you she was here! You owe me ten sickles!"

Cosette heard the other boy curse, and the fair haired boy was grinning broadly, turning away from her and settling back down in front of his friend, rudely dismissing Cosette as if she wasn't there.

Cosette's frown couldn't have been deeper if she tried. Miserably, she walked out of the common room and wandered alone to the Great Hall. She was thankful at least for remembering the way back up.

When she reached the Great Hall, Cosette wasn't in any better a mood. She was thoroughly sure she hated her house completely, and the prospect of eating with them made her stomach revolt. Instead, she turned her head away from the Slytherin table to the table that had the banners of red and gold hanging over them. Her brother. She would go and eat with her brother. Cosette made up her mind and started walking towards it, thinking about how much she had to tell Harry. She needed to be close with him, anyway. He would make her feel better.

Harry and Ron had made three wrong turns before they found themselves in the Great Hall. Hogwarts really was a maze if you didn't know where you were going. They were just lucky they ran into an older student who pointed them in the right direction.

They sat down with a plop and Ron almost immediately piled everything in sight onto his plate. Harry was pleased that his stomach had settled during the walk, because the towering plates of pancakes and plump looking sausages were making his mouth water. If this was what meals would be like everyday here, Harry would be enthralled. He had just managed to fill his plate with six pancakes—it seemed like a reasonable amount— when he heard an awful screeching sound.

"Mail's coming!"

There was a screeching sound Harry was learning to signify to owls. Then, looking up, he spotted owls of all shapes and sizes fluttering in. It was a spectacle to see, and Harry suddenly had the urge to shove his hands out and shield his food. It was only then he noticed that they all had letters or packages in their claws. To his surprise, one owl had dropped a letter in front of him. Frowning, Harry picked up the parchment, wondering if the owl had meant if for someone else.

"Well, go on –open it!" Ron said enthusiastically. He himself had a letter which he turned pink at, mumbling something about his mum congratulating him on becoming a Gryffindor.

"It's from Hagrid," Harry beamed, happy at the fact that the letter was actually for him. "He's inviting me and Cosette over for tea after classes."

"Well, are you going to reply?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded his head rapidly. He would go, and he knew Cosette would want to come too; she had finally warmed up to Hagrid and he knew she liked him. After penning the reply, the owl zoomed off, and Harry was left wondering where his sister was. He had looked for her at the Slytherin table, but didn't see her. Had she slept in maybe?

It was when there was only fifteen minutes left of breakfast that he felt Ron poking his arm.

"Hey Harry, isn't that your sister?"

Harry looked in the direction Ron was pointing, and noticed his sister's mop of red hair walking towards them. Harry smiled brightly, happy to see that his sister was fine. Her robes looked no different than usual, only now they had that awful Slytherin crest on the left breast. They locked eyes, and Harry saw her expression was somewhat grim, but at the sight of him, she smiled. As she approached, Harry was only mildly aware of the murmurs that were starting around him.

By the time Cosette had gotten to them, the murmurs and stares hadn't gotten passed him, but he ignored them as he made room next to him.

"Can I eat with you?" she asked timidly, looking around her, obviously very aware of the looks she was getting.

Harry nodded quickly and she plopped down next to him. When she did this, the space around them grew deathly silent. Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as he noticed the odd glares his sister was receiving. Some were curious, others puzzled, but most –coming from the older students—were unquestionably nasty.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Both Harry and Cosette jumped at the voice. Turning to the source, Harry noted an older student glaring at his sister with a hard, disapproving scowl.

"This is the _Gryffindor _table," another boy said. "We don't want _Slytherins_ here."

Cosette looked pale, and shirked back, and Harry was momentarily stunned by the harsh comments. They reminded him of the things and looks he got when he approached the Slytherin table the night before.

"I—I just –"

Harry noticed that they had gotten a lot more attention. Almost all sets of eyes were on them, and most of them were angry.

"A Slytherin?"

"There's a Slytherin at our table?"

"Ew! What is that rotten snake doing here?"

"Come to poison us for sure! Hey! No one drink the pumpkin juice! It's poison!"

"Poison!"

"Oooh! Slytherin!"

Harry didn't understand the reaction his house was having on his sister there. They just wanted to eat together. What was their problem? He had expected this reaction from the Slytherins, not the Gryffindors.

"Why don't you beat it, go back to your own table, twerp?" one boy nastily said. He looked about two years older than them.

"Hey! Shove off! That's my sister!" Harry said angrily.

The Gryffindors looked mildly confused about his actions. Harry felt Ron next to him tense and say weakly; "Harry, Slytherins really don't belong at this table."

Harry turned to glare at Ron for not defending his sister— whose face had fallen so fast, he was afraid she would cry.

"She's my sister! I can't let them treat her like this!"

Ron looked guilty, face tingeing pink as he noted that, not only were they now glaring at Harry, but at him as well. A few students were muttering curiously to themselves at the fact that the famous Harry Potter had a sister, who was a Slytherin no less.

"I've got nothing against your sister, Harry. But for her own good, get her away from the table; they'll eat her alive here! Just look at them!"

Harry was turning red, disgusted by how his housemates were glaring at Cosette like he brought over the plague. But before he could say anything else, he sister stood up and dashed from the table. He watched in a blur as her pale, shaking form rushed passed the table—not to the Slytherin table, but out the doors of the Great Hall, head bowed and hands covering her face.

Harry got up to follow her, and Ron gave him a look.

"I have to go after her," he said, and with a livid expression, he glared once more at his house— who all looked suddenly relieved that his sister was gone—before going after her.

He trotted out of the Great Hall, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find her. Knowing all the winding and changing behaviors of the school, he knew it would be fruitless to continue his search with such an abysmal knowledge of the area. He was concerned that Cosette didn't know these things, and had blindly run in a direction and got lost. He felt terrible for what his house did, and wanted to apologize for their behavior. He wanted to march back over to the table and demand them all to apologize, and decided that since he couldn't find her, that that's exactly what he'd do.

Stomping his way back into the Great Hall, Harry took his position standing before his seat and glared at his house.

"I want you to know that you did a really rotten thing!" Harry seethed. His housemates, who were goofing off and talking together, paused and looked at him confused. Angrily, Harry Continued.

"My sister didn't do anything to any of you, she didn't deserve that treatment!"

"She's a Slytherin though," one of the guilty boys said, however, he didn't sound the least bit guilty. "They are all the same."

"She's not like them!" Harry yelled. "And you don't know her at all; you didn't even give her a chance!"

"Cool down there, Potter," one girl said. "You act as if this is a new occurrence."

"Yeah," another boy agreed. "You honestly think the Slytherins are any better? You go sit with them, I dare you. See how they'll react."

"Compared to them, we were downright polite."

"Would've skinned you, I'm sure."

Harry couldn't believe his ears, and it took Ron's hand to keep him from blowing a fuse. He had never been so angry with so many people.

"Harry, come on. Calm down a bit. Forget them."

"But Ron, it isn't right." Harry's eyes were burning.

"I know, I know. But… maybe we can get Percy or McGonagall to do something about it, but right now, just take a breath and sit."

Harry let out a sigh, but eventually sat down like Ron suggested. He wasn't hungry in the slightest though, and soon stood up and excused himself from the table.

"Want me to come with you?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I need some time to think."

Harry walked out of the Great Hall with his head down and a lot on his mind to think about. He hadn't noticed that someone from his own table had gotten up not long after he had and followed him. Harry didn't want to get lost, so he didn't go too far, just turned the nearest corner so that the Great Hall was out of his sight and he couldn't hear the obnoxious noise of the students. How could his day already be so bad off? It had just started, and it was supposed to be the beginning of a great new life. How had things spiraled down so quickly?

Harry was brought out of his depressing thoughts by the sounds of approaching footsteps. Harry looked up, and inwardly groaned as he saw the bushy head of Hermione step up to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly in a voice that gravely differed from her usual bossy one. It was very calm and soft.

"I'm fine." Harry wasn't in the mood to talk to her right now, or anyone for that matter. He just wanted to be with Cosette, but since he couldn't find her, he had to be alone.

"I just wanted to say that…what you did in there…sticking up to all those students for your sister was very noble," she said.

"I didn't do it to be noble," Harry remarked angrily. Hermione had the knack of liking to put her two-cents into everything. She liked to think she knew everything, and in his angered state, he was mad at her for it—and how does he know that she wasn't one of the sneering students that spurned his sister and just feels guilty about it now?

"I know you didn't," she murmured. "I just really respect that you would do that for your sister."

Harry felt slightly guilty for snapping at her and jumping to conclusions. Maybe he had judged Hermione too hard.

"I'm an only child you see," Hermione stared down at her feet, nervously biting her lip. "But I always wanted a sibling. You and your sister seem very close."

"We are," Harry sighed, his head hitting the stone wall he was resting up against. "We're all we have."

Hermione knew that they were orphaned, and so she didn't press any further. Harry was grateful for this, as he really just wanted some time alone.

"I hope that you know that I think what the other Gryffindors did was wrong, and that I don't think that your sister is any of the things they were saying."

Harry looked up at the bushy haired girl and gave a small smile.

"Thanks," he replied. Hermione returned the gesture, giving him a smile. She rubbed his shoulder slightly before turning.

"I think you'd best go back in soon. They're going to hand out our schedules, and I don't think you want to miss your first class."

No, Harry didn't. As he watched her turn and go back to the Great Hall, he was suddenly hit with a thought—did Cosette get her timetable? He didn't know if she stopped by the Slytherin table first before coming over, or not. What if she didn't have it? What if she missed her classes? Harry decided that he needed to notify a teacher of his sister's absence.

Professor McGonagall was the Head of Gryffindor house, and so she was the one who handed out their schedules. She had informed him that she would see to it that Cosette had received hers as well. With that small weight lifted off his chest, he followed Ron into their first class. Their first class turned out to be Charms with Professor Flitwick. Harry was excited about the idea of this class; learning enchantments and charms. Professor Flitwick was the Head of Ravenclaw, and he was a dwarf of a man with wild, bushy white hair and a beard. He was told that he was actually part goblin, and Harry immediately saw the resemblance to the workers at Gringotts; just without the nasty glares and sharp teeth, on the contrary, Flitwick had a kind gentle face. He turned out to be a very jolly fellow.

They shared this class with the Hufflepuffs and during roll call, when he had gotten to Harry's name, the man actually fell off the stack of books he was standing on. The class again was full of murmurs, and he was gaped at like a specimen at the zoo. Harry was disappointed to learn that they wouldn't learn how to cast spells right off the bat, but spent the whole lesson writing notes. It soon dawned on Harry that magic was much more complicated than he previously thought and there was a lot of technical theory involved with the actual action. Flitwick spent the lesson explaining aloud to the class different aspects of charms as chalk wrote on the board by itself the notes they were expected to take. It was fairly simple stuff, but none of it seemed to truly explain how to cast magic. When a Hufflepuff girl asked when they would start casting spells, Flitwick replied that it would probably be in about two weeks, though they would be practicing the "Lumos" charm in that time. Harry decided that he didn't particularly care for this class, although he didn't mind the Professor.

After Charms class their schedule said they had Transfigurations with Professor McGonagall and the Ravenclaws. It was here that Harry learned that McGonagall was just as strict as she looked. The class had quieted down with little more than a glance around the room at the students. She gave a quick speech about the rudimentary properties of Transfigurations, and Harry was excited to try and turn random, boring things into others. She did a demonstration where she turned herself into a cat, and Harry's eyes grew wide. Unfortunately, she informed them all that they would not be learning how to do that, and instead gave each student a toothpick and told them to change it into a needle. It was much harder than it looked, and by the end of class, only Hermione had successfully done this. She had smiled so brightly at the teacher's praise, like a puppy that was patted on the head for doing a good job. Ron grumbled under his breath about being a suck up and a show off.

The next period was lunch, and Harry was more than a bit aware by this point that he hadn't seen his sister all day. Since they had yet to have a class with the Slytherins, he hadn't seen her. Though no matter how much he looked during lunch, he didn't see her show up at all. She didn't come. Harry was starting to get nervous and worried. What if something happened to her? Maybe she was alright though, and just didn't feel like coming to lunch after what had happened earlier.

Thinking this must be the reason, Harry looked down at his timetable and let out a relieved sigh. Their next class was Potions in the dungeons with the Slytherins. He would be able to tell just then if she was alright or not.


	10. The Potions Classroom

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 10<p>

The Potions Classroom

The Potions classroom was located in the dungeons, unlike the rest of their classes so far. It was the coldest classroom by far and also the closest to Cosette's common room. The stone walls and floor caused even the quietest of whispers to echo and even though they were under the lake, the area permeated with a dank stench. Inside the classroom was dark. There were no windows, only a few dimly lit torches. The walls were littered with bookshelves that were filled with old looking tomes and crowned with all sorts of glass jars filled with a yellowish jelly-like substance, in which floated pickled, mangled specimens. Cosette had found these things very disturbing, but couldn't seem to pull her eyes away in fascination. Was it her imagination, or had one of the globular, detached eyeballs just shift its dilated pupil around the room?

The whole room smelled like the apothecary in Diagon Alley, only a bit more pleasing to the senses. The stench of rotten eggs was instead replaced with a very spicy like smell of mixed herbs that wasn't entirely unpleasant to her and gazing about the room, one could very easily spot containers and jars filled with potions ingredients. The teacher had not yet entered the room, as everyone took their seats.

Harry noticed that of the students, only the Slytherins looked the most at ease. Professor Snape was their Head of House, as well as their Potions teacher, and this alone seemed to intimidate many of the students; his harsh and strict reputation had already scared many students into a silent stiff position. He could spot his sister sitting in the back row on the opposite side of the room and he frowned a little, wondering why she hadn't taken the seat next to him. Had the scene in breakfast really scared her off against ever sitting next to him, or any Gryffindor for that matter? She refused to even look at any of his housemates, with himself as an exception, of course. Yet, even those looks were only timid, fleeting glances, as if she was somehow ashamed with herself over something.

From this distance, he couldn't even tell if she was alright. Her eyes didn't meet with his, and instead she seemed to try and hide behind her cauldron as the rather large girl next to her leaned over the table to speak to another student just in front of her. Just then the adjoined door that Harry guessed was to the teacher's office swung open with a loud, clamorous bang. In swept the fierce looking Professor Harry had the unpleasant encounter with at the opening feast, and his mood and demeanor looked no happier.

He strode purposely and without arrest until he made it to the head of the class, cloak billowing in a manner that reminded Harry of a large bat. When he reached the front, he took a seat behind a large desk which was covered in more jars and papers. The class spent the next few seconds squirming uncomfortably as the Professor had yet to address them. After several minutes, he began shuffling his papers and began to read off roll call, and just like Professor Flitwick had, he seemed to pause at Harry's name.

"Ah yes, Mr. Potter," he drawled out in a sarcastic tone. "Our new – celebrity."

There was snickering coming from Malfoy's end of the table. Cosette stared at Malfoy as he sniggered before turning her gaze back to the Professor, sitting a bit straighter. He had reacted at her brother's name, not in awe like she was sure the others had, but with a sense of discretion. Still, the idea that her brother warranted any note worthy attention over the rest of the class bothered her somewhat. It was all anyone seemed to do since they had been introduced to the wizarding community.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving in this class, many of you will hardly believe that this is magic," his eyes darted around the class, who were all silent. Like McGonagall, Snape had the power to keep his classroom silent with his presence alone, without even raising his voice.

"You are here to learn the exact science and subtle art that is Potion making. I don't expect many of you to appreciate the beauty of the softly simmering of a cauldron, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind…ensnaring the senses. However, for those select few… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death..."

Cosette leaned forward slightly, mesmerized by the whisper of his voice and the promises they conveyed. She wasn't the only one; the whole of the class had leaned in, trying to grasp his words. He seemed to have a way of making all of them eager to jump right into the class and start brewing the wonders he was speaking of.

"—if you all aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach," he added just as smoothly, and Cosette couldn't help but break loose of the spell from his off-handed remark.

She probably would be one of those dunderheads.

The class collapsed back into their slouched posture as he finished; the silence still thick over them. Finally, Snape's eyes danced across the room suddenly and landed on Harry.

"Potter!"

Both twins jumped, but Harry noticed his gaze on him, not expecting to be called on, and sat up as straight as he could.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

There was a moment when Harry just stared blankly at his Potion's teacher, wondering if he seriously asked Harry that question. He looked next to him at Ron, who only shrugged. He also briefly noticed that Hermione's hand shot straight up into the air, her face lighting up.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered quietly.

Snape's lips had curled into an unpleasant sneer.

"No? Well then, let's try again, shall we? Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I told you to locate me a bezoar?"

_A what?_ Harry looked flabbergasted, and once again noticed Hermione's hand shoot up like a firecracker and was waving about; she was bouncing a bit in her seat in anxiousness.

"I don't know sir," Harry answered again, while beginning to fidget in his seat uncomfortably.

"Didn't think you'd bother to open your textbooks before term started, did you?" Snape sneered with distaste.

Well, that was just untrue. He and his sister had looked through the school books; Cosette had practically had her nose buried in them since they had returned from Diagon Alley— yet, as he shifted his gaze to the back of the class, he noticed her dumbfounded expression and knew she hadn't the slightest clue what the Professor was talking about either. Had he really expected him to memorize every single detail in the books?

"We'll try on last time, Mr. Potter," Snape's voice forced him to turn back from his sister to look at him. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Again, Harry had no answer to this question, yet Hermione was practically bouncing out of her seat. Was there anything the girl didn't know? He would be lying if he said her know-it-all behavior didn't irritate him a little, as it felt almost like she was mocking him in class right now.

"I don't know sir," Harry said for the final time, and as much as he tried to hold it back, the words were spoken with a bit of spite.

If Snape had picked up on it, he gave no notion. After all, he was already glaring at him like he brought with him the ten plagues of Egypt.

"Pity," he sneered, and in the background, Harry could hear Malfoy and his goons snickering. "Clearly fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt his eyes narrowing, and before he could help himself, he blurted out –

"Clearly Hermione knows; seems pity not to ask her."

While the class had erupted with chuckles, Harry knew in an instant that that was the wrong thing to say. Snape's eyes, if at all possible, had narrowed even more.

"Sit down, you silly girl," Snape's voice came out in a hiss and that alone silenced the class.

He looked over, and it seemed that Hermione hadn't been able to withstand being seated after all, and had in fact, stood up wiggling her hand. Harry watched as she dropped back into her seat as Snape approached, and Harry gulped as he stopped just before him.

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone that can be found in the stomach of a goat and can cure most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, and are also referred to as aconite," he paused there, as the entire class stared at them both. You could hear a pin drop.

"Well?" Snape's voice rang out and echoed in the classroom as he addressed them all. "Why aren't you all writing this down?"

All at once, the classroom was filled with the sounds of ruffling papers and scratching quills. Snape had retreated to his front desk, where he announced with a bit more amusement than necessary,

"And Gryffindors will note that a point will be taken, for your housemate's cheek."

Cosette had watched the encounter with confused eyes. While she had definitely noted the hateful glances Professor Snape had been throwing her brother over dinner the previous night, she wasn't expecting this sort of behavior. All of the other teachers had delighted at the very sight of her twin, and this was a rather odd reaction. Even though she thought it was cruel to think it, she couldn't help but relish in the fact that at least one teacher amongst the bunch didn't immediately worship her brother at the mere sight of his name. In that respect, Cosette found herself oddly wishing to make an impression on the Professor, who had somehow, despite his nasty disposition and the crippling fear she felt for him, rose in her esteem.

Though, she was off to a horrible start. Professor Snape had instructed them all to start making a potion that was used to cure boils. While the instructions were simply stated, Cosette still managed to somehow turn her potion— which was supposed to be a thick yellow color— into a watery grayish concoction that was bubbling uncontrollably. In retrospect, she would realize that it was because of her nervous, panicky desire to not mess up that caused her to make a glaring oversight, but in her current state, she only managed to screw things up. To make things even worse, Snape was making rounds across the classroom, stopping by each student's potion to give a nasty comment about how awful it was, with the exception of the Malfoy boy's, to which he praised gloriously. Looking into her own drooling potion— which was far off from perfect— made Cosette panic even more. He was sure to glare down at her and mock her for her utter failure, and Cosette's fear only escalated at the Professor's approach.

He was just one student ahead of her, and she glanced over watching as he inspected her neighbor's cauldron, scornfully complaining that it was too thick and was a horrible waste. She could only assume what he would say about hers. With her heart pumping wildly, Cosette nervously began squirming where she stood, her hair dropping into her face to shield it from view, trying to hold herself back from the tears she knew would follow his nasty remarks. She wasn't strong like her brother, who had just stood there and blinked as Snape insulted his potion by far the worst in the class. As she felt him approaching, Cosette steeled herself to look at her cutting board, her hands gripping the knife as tightly as she could, chopping up the porcupine quills into neat, quarter inch pieces.

However, just as he reached her cauldron, he had shifted and continued walking past her, ignoring her and her potion completely, as if she wasn't even there. She was left standing there dumbfounded as he skipped over her, and began chastising the student right next to her. Stunned, Cosette peered over bravely at her Professor, only to notice his back was to her, as if any contact with her would poison him. What was wrong? Why was he ignoring her? Thinking back, Cosette couldn't think of one time at all during class or even in the Great Hall –or practically any time so far— that her Head of House even so much as looked at her. He always seemed to pass by as if she were a ghost, like she didn't exist. Even when going through roll call he had seamlessly rolled onto the next student's name, barely letting her even finished calling out; "present." So now he was strolling off, ignoring the putrid mass of ooze in her cauldron that more than justifiably deserved his scorn. Was it that bad that he didn't even think it was worth commenting on? Was she so horrible at Potions that he knew ahead of time that she would do so dreadfully and that's why he ignored her?

She almost didn't know what would be worse, this complete and blatant disregard or his announcement of her failure. She sniffed involuntarily, mentally deciding that she would do better. Though the Professor had ignored her, he was the only teacher— or possibly the only person in the entire school—who didn't admire Harry over anyone else, and so she was dedicated to doing better in his class, even if to just prove that she wasn't terrible, that she could do better, and that she was worth insulting. And maybe, subconsciously even, trying to prove that she at least could do one thing better than her brother.

If anyone noticed Professor Snape's disinterest in Cosette's potion, it was immediately forgotten by the events in which happened next. From across the room on the Gryffindor's side of the classroom, came a loud explosion. Students shrieked and a few had jumped and dived under the tables as a student's cauldron had quite literally exploded, covering the owner in a gloppy, syrupy fluid.

Neville Longbottom, as Harry remembered his name, began crying out as boils began to appear all over the area on his skin which had made contact with his potion.

"Idiot boy!" came Snape's cruel bellow as he flew across the room. "I bet you added the porcupine quills _before_ taking the cauldron off the flame?"

Neville didn't respond, just continue to sniff miserably as nasty, puss filled boils grew and systematically popped all over his face. Snape all at once spun around to the table directly in front of Neville's, where Harry and Ron sat.

"Potter! Why didn't you stop Longbottom from adding porcupine quills at the wrong time? Think you'd come out looking better? Five more points will be taken from Gryffindor!"

Now that was entirely unfair. How could Harry have had anything to do with a student's botched potion, especially one who was sitting behind him and one he hadn't even noticed was there? Harry felt hot anger boil inside him, but Ron held his arm back.

"It's not worth it, mate," Ron shook his head. "Just let it go. Snape's this way to everyone. He's always taking points off from Fred and George."

Harry didn't want to let it go, but knew that Ron was right. He took a deep breath and turned, cleaning up his potion, which Snape had said was nothing but a complete and total failure. The only one on the Gryffindor's side who had made the potion look half way decent was Hermione, something that Harry had no trouble believing.

When everything was cleaned up and Neville was escorted to the Hospital Wing so that Madam Pomfrey could heal him, they were dismissed. Harry miserably walked out the class with his head hanging, wondering again why the Professor hated him so much. What had he done? Even Ron's reassurance only went so far.

"Can I go with you to see Hagrid?" Ron had asked once they were safely out of the proximity of the dungeon classroom.

Harry nodded his head.

"Yeah, let's just find my sister and go." Together they made their way through the throes of students, hoping to spot his twin. They found her just by the entrance to the dungeon, back turned and walking stiffly with her arms clutching her books, head downcast.

When Harry approached, his sister addressed him with a distant response that was growing far too familiar. It was as if his sister was distancing herself from him for some reason, and he couldn't place why. He stopped in front of her and gave her a gentle smile, one she timidly returned.

"Are you alright?" Harry finally asked. The anger he felt this morning had far dried up since then. Classes had been such an adventure, that it completely replaced his worry.

Cosette remained silent and didn't answer right away. After a bit, she muttered a quick, "Yeah."

Harry didn't believe her.

"About this morning…" but when he went to push it, Cosette cut in.

"Just drop it, Harry."

Confused, Harry cocked his head. They had never kept things from each other before. If something bothered one of them, they shared it with each other. Harry didn't understand why his sister suddenly became so withdrawn. Maybe it was her way of dealing with it, or maybe she just didn't want him to worry. Whatever it was, Harry merely nodded his head.

"Hagrid invited us to tea," he brought up, hoping the change in topic would lighten the mood. It did and Cosette brightened up a bit. "I said we'd go. That's okay, right? I mean, you want to go?"

Cosette nodded her head. All three of them then ascended the dungeons and began walking to the courtyard to meet with Hagrid for tea.

Ron and Harry struck up a conversation while walking across the grassy field, but Cosette had kept her reserve. Harry wondered what was bothering her so much, as he thought back to Potions class. He remembered how Snape thankfully hadn't insulted her, so she couldn't be upset over that. She must still be sore over breakfast. When they reached Hagrid's hut, they paused before knocking on the door.

The place was small— considering who dwelled within— and as they waited, they heard the barking of a dog on the other side. Harry saw Cosette take a cautious step back in fear.

"Hold on a minute," came the gruff voice of Hagrid from inside. "Down Fang, I said down!"

After a bit of shuffling noises, the wooden door creaked open, allowing them passage.

"Sorry 'bout that," Hagrid's warm smile was enough to lighten Harry's mood again. At his right side lay a giant beast of a dog and each of them looked at it nervously. Noticing their worried expressions, Hagrid chuckled.

"Don' worry 'bout Fang here, he's as gentle as a new born doe. C'mon in."

Harry walked in first, then Ron, with Cosette bringing up the rear. The inside of the hut looked even smaller than the outside suggested. It was only one giant room, which contained in it a large bed and potbellied stove and dingy fireplace. Against one wall was a large, dirty ripped lounge chair that was big enough to accommodate Hagrid, and a small rounded table sat in the corner, on which settled a tea set. The smell of the place reminded Harry of the zoo, as it smelled like several unwashed animals. There were also pheasants and muskrats hanging off ropes that were strewn about the small abode as if a stream of Christmas lights.

"C'mon, have a seat!" he ushered them towards the table, and they all sat down quickly.

Hagrid went about pouring each of them tea, while Cosette kept throwing nervous glances towards Fang. Harry knew Cosette didn't have a good history with dogs, seeing as Aunt Marge's fat canine had on more than one occasion bit her. Seeing a dog, who was much larger than Marge's, unnerved her. When it approached and sniffed all of them, Ron and Harry gently patted his head and received their fair share of slobbery drool. When he approached Cosette however, she tensed up and backed away, moving her hands out of Fang's mouth range. Fang just cocked his head, and Harry graciously diverted the boarhound's attention by scratching behind its ear. The dog's tail wagged happily, as it rested its drooling head on his lap.

"This is my friend Ron," Harry introduced, and Ron nodded his head in greeting.

"Ron Weasley," the red-head added, smiling brightly.

"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid chuckled. "I am well acquainted with yer two trouble-makin' twin brothers. Always runnin' off towards the fores' an' all."

"Sounds like them," Ron agreed, staring at the large black mounds that Hagrid placed in front of them. They all exchanged glances as they were told they were some sort of _cake_, but after several failed attempts to bite into them, they simply settled to politely nibbling the sides.

After pleasant conversation was spent, mostly with Cosette remaining silent, Harry and Ron were pleased to find that Hagrid shared their sentiments about Filch, the caretaker.

"Blimey ol' git. He and his cat, yeh know," Hagrid mumbled taking a sip of tea. "Never met one single animal I didn't like till I met Mrs. Norris. I'd like to introduce her to Fang, if yeh know what I mean. Every time I go into the school, she follows me aroun' like I'm a prowlin' hooligan. Filch puts her up to it, I'm sure."

"Still, I'd rather put up with him than Snape," Ron seemed to shiver here, and Harry couldn't help agreeing.

"Snape?" Hagrid raised a brow. "Don' tell me you already got a detention with him?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I just don't think he likes me very much. Well…actually, _like_ isn't a strong enough word for what I think he feels. I think he _hates_ me."

"An' what makes you think that?" Hagrid blinked.

Harry briefly summed up his encounter with the unpleasant Potions instructor, how he pointedly ridiculed him in class and about how he insulted everyone's potion, but seemed the most upset with his.

"The only one he hadn't insulted was Cosette," Ron grumbled under his breath, to which Hagrid looked surprised.

"Oh?" he sounded interested and looked over expectedly at Cosette, a smile on his face. He no doubt thought his lack of insult meant she did remarkably well.

Cosette had been absolutely silent, save for a quiet thank you when he passed out the tea. When Hagrid looked over at her, her face was downcast and she was staring into her cup.

"He completely ignored me," Cosette's voice was little above a whisper. "Didn't even bother to comment about how horribly mine turned out."

"You should be lucky about that," Ron remarked with a grin. "He always treats his Slytherins better. I didn't believe it when Fred and George said it, but now I know it's true."

Cosette looked up sharply.

"He didn't treat any of us differently, well except maybe for that Malfoy kid. But for me... well, he completely passed by me! Like I wasn't even there," her face crumbled in misery. "I was so horrible in class; he probably didn't even think I was even worth insulting."

"Then we should all be so bad at Potions!" Ron laughed out, apparently not seeing how Cosette's situation was affecting her. From across the table, Harry saw as Cosette turned to glare at Ron. Quickly, he decided to cut in.

"I'm sure you're not that bad, Cosette."

Her eyes turned from Ron at her brother. She looked disbelieving at him.

"No? Besides for that clod Longbottom and his exploding cauldron, I did the worst."

"Maybe you just were off to a bad start," Harry shrugged, trying to make her feel better. He looked down at her fidgeting hands and a small smile crept on his face.

"Besides, you're probably the only one who didn't nick their fingers to ribbons cutting ingredients."

Here he flashed her his fingers, which were riddled with small, paper cut sized injuries. He wiggled them about, and Ron did the same, brandishing similar wounds with a cheeky, broad grin.

Cosette looked down at her untouched hands and gave a small smile. She did notice how the Slytherin students next to her had all managed to cut things very choppy and sloppily, and otherwise mangled their ingredients with fumbling hands and everyone seemed to get a thin nick or two.

"I guess all those years cooking for the Dursleys had some advantage," she said, feeling somewhat better.

"Yeh see! I'm sure you'll do fine!" Hagrid nodded his head. "Jus' don't take his comments to heart, he's like tha' with everyone. I don't think you have anythin' to worry 'bout C'sette," he didn't meet her eyes when he spoke to her, and Harry was under the impression that he was hiding something, as if he knew something that would explain the teacher's weird behavior.

"I guess…" Harry mumbled, filing this information away for later. "But I still don't see why he puts such an emphasis when it comes to me. What does he have against me? What could I have done to him?"

Hagrid looked uncomfortable here and his eyes nervously danced around his room, as if he was expecting at any moment one of the dead hanging animals would come to life.

"How's yer brother Charlie doin', eh Ron? Workin' with dragons still?"

Harry wondered if Hagrid was changing the subject on purpose, and then wondered for what reason. Did he know something about Snape? Did he know of the reasons why he treated him so bad, and why he ignored his sister so completely? As he listened to Ron talk about how his brother was training dragons in Romania, he noticed Cosette looking with furrowed brows at a newspaper, which was placed underneath their cups of tea. Leaning in closer, he noticed the heading**: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST.**

Harry and Cosette shared a look, and as she passed the article to him, she gave him a knowing nod. Ron had mentioned something about it on the train, and Cosette seemed to think that this was no coincidence. Quickly, he read over the paper.

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

'Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.'

"Hagrid!" Harry broke into the conversation, holding up the paper. "The break-in at Gringotts happened the same day we were there!"

Harry looked up at Hagrid, who looked rather nervous and kept refusing to meet his eyes. This couldn't have been a coincidence.

"And the vault they broke into," Harry said, skimming down the article, "it's the same one we visited, 713," Harry pointed out. Hagrid hastily reached for another rock cake and offered it to Harry, but he wasn't so easily swayed. That object that Hagrid took out of the vault; could it be what the thieves were after?

"Look kids, it's gettin' late, you should probably head back now before dinner starts."

Before they knew it, Hagrid was ushering them out of his hut. As the door shut behind them, Ron looked confused.

"Well, that was…interesting," he mumbled.

"Yeah, interesting…" Harry drifted off as the three of them made their way up to the castle.

"I'm starved!" Ron announced the same instance a loud grumble rose from his stomach. "I hope they have something good –like roast chicken, or perhaps steak or –"

As Ron prattled off, Harry shook his head and laughed, amused by his friend's fixation for food. Looking nervously over at his sister, she had a rather resigned look on her face. Breakfast had been painful, and lunch she hadn't even bothered to show up to. Would she be alright at dinner?

"I can sit by you, if you want," Harry said to her.

Cosette's contemplative look vanished and she fiercely shook her head.

"You know you can't do that, remember last night? No, it's plainly obvious that our houses aren't meant to socialize together. It would be better if we ate apart."

Her words were spoken almost bitterly, and Harry found he was hurt by that, but he knew her words were true; his house didn't want his sister sitting there anymore than the Slytherins would want him at theirs. They would just have to learn to be separated from each other while eating… as well as being separated in class… as well as being separated in different common rooms… as well as being separated to sleep in completely different parts of the castle… Harry miserably wondered if this split between them could grow any worse.


	11. Quidditch

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

Quidditch

The dinner that night was not as extraordinary as the welcoming feast, but nonetheless delicious. Cosette had, like she said, sat down with her fellow Slytherins. She made sure to take a seat at the end of the table, almost the same seat she took the night before. She refused to make eye contact with anyone from the table. She already had her taste of what her house was like throughout classes today, and didn't like it one bit. The girls were mostly superficial, stuck up and prejudiced. The boys were mostly bigoted and over-arrogant, and she quickly learned that unless your name held any meaning, you were worthless. The few she had contact with were either nasty to her, assaulted her with questions about her brother, or beyond weird. She had learned from murmurs in the common room that Melvin Aguillard was a creator of mischief and a known guilty partaker of losing house points. Apparently, the bizarre kid loved to cause trouble, and getting caught more, and wound up having detention half the nights of the week.

She preferred not to deal with any of them. Her fellow students, from the first class they shared, had decided to coin her as "Potter's sister" after roll call, and had called her that for the rest of the day. It quickly spread like wildfire, and soon the whole school was buzzing over the fact that "Potter" apparently had a sister, and she could be identified as "that ginger in Slytherin," since she was the only red head in her house. She had since then received odd stares and she could hear their whispers whenever she was around them. Even though her Slytherins were idealistic and patronizing, she still preferred them over Harry's house. The fiasco at breakfast that morning had thoroughly put her off of the idea of ever befriending anyone from that house. She had learned, from that morning, that simply because she was a Slytherin, the whole of the Lion's house didn't like her.

She had run from breakfast in tears, and wandered into an empty classroom. It wasn't until a very irritated Charlemagne Nott found her to hand over her timetable did she head off to class. She had no desire whatsoever to participate in any activity for the day, so spent most of the time in her first class, which was Transfigurations, staring murderously at her toothpick. Afterwards, Charms class went better, having finally gotten over her humiliation. It was mainly note taking, but it was enough to distract her. She completely skipped Lunch at that point, not wanting to face the horrid taunting from her peers, and it was only due to her terrible hunger that she showed up now, to eat her first meal of the day.

She didn't want her twin to have to deal with her misfortune—he seemed to be having the time of his life compared to her—and she didn't want to worry him. She felt as if she would be raining on his parade with her compete lack of joyfulness. It seemed that because of his new found fame, he had no trouble reining in friends. She wasn't sure how she felt about this.

When dinner was over, Cosette silently went up to her room. Despite it being the first day of school, they still had homework. She had the most in Charms and Potions. For Transfigurations, she still needed to turn that stupid toothpick into a needle. She sat on her bed and pulled out her Charms and Potions books. As much as she did horribly in Potions that day, she meant to keep by what she said and do better, and in order to do that, she had to study hard. Unlike Charms, Potions had started off with a hands-on project, so she naturally preferred that class, even if she failed horribly at her assignment and the teacher terrified her. She was determined to do better. Her schoolwork wasn't that easy to do, but after about an hour she had managed to turn her toothpick seamlessly into what was definitely a needle. She sat it on her bed side table with a satisfied smile. She began flipping somewhat absentmindedly through her Transfigurations notes and the book Hagrid bought for her. Many of the concepts outlined in the book made much more sense after McGonagall's lesson and her accomplishment now.

Cosette realized homework would rarely ever be a problem for her; not because she was incredibly gifted with genius level intelligence, but because the other girls in her dorm room preferred to spend the evenings in the common room, and this left Cosette alone for a few hours in the evenings with nothing else to do— perfect conditions for studying. She marked her place in her book with a sheet of parchment and placed her notes in the book by the relevant subject. She then snapped the book shut and placed it neatly next to her small pile of yet-to-do homework. She was just about to pull her Charms homework towards her when the door opened. Cosette jumped and hastily pulled her Charms notes and book towards her and made for the curtain around her bed.

It was Camille Nott who noted Cosette's sudden panic stricken behavior with a smirk.

"How's it going, er… Potter's sister?" she addressed Cosette, who was not at all well receptive to the sudden remark, and it caused her to drop the things she was holding all over the floor.

She hastily made to pick them up, some of her notes going under her bed.

Camille watched, not bothering to hide how amused she was by all this as Cosette made to collect her notes from under the bed, making herself look quite ridiculous in the process. Camille meanwhile was having difficulty suppressing her giggles.

"A bit of a spaz, aren't you?" Nott asked rhetorically after Cosette had risen.

Cosette didn't answer, but simply downcast her head so that her hair fell forward in a perfect veil.

"I bet you like being the teacher's pet of the Head of House," Nott continued as she resumed her activities around the room.

This statement confused Cosette; if anyone was the teacher's pet it was Malfoy, and how could anyone say anything about her being the teacher's pet? Professor Snape had completely ignored her in class.

"Professor Snape just ignored me… I'm not a teacher's pet…" she said quietly.

"What are you talking about? He obviously likes you; he's skipped right over you! And I bet you're trying to kiss up to him. After all, why else would you be up here doing your homework for him?"

Cosette felt rather stung, and was very far from answering the question. Nott began to change into her sleeping clothes and Cosette was left standing there unsure of what to do. The blonde took notice of her lack of movement and looked over at her and smirked again.

"You're probably planning on sleeping in your clothes again, such a disgusting thing to do really. Not to mention you're ugly," she said, a slight flame rising in her eyes; she put particular emphasis on the last word. "Ugly, awkward, and unhygienic. Why, I'd say you've got your own naturally occurring birth control," Camille laughed.

Cosette, having been heavily sheltered by the Dursley's and was yet to even have her first period, was confused by what Nott meant by this insult, though she was still abashed from the comments about her being ugly, awkward, and unhygienic. Cosette took to staring at the floor feeling like she would like nothing better than to sink right through the floorboards.

Camille Nott shook her head.

"I'm just glad you're at least on the other side of the room, I don't want to catch that birth control or anything," she said. "Or I'll have to deal with being as ugly as you are…" Camille's eyes narrowed, and the same deadly emphasis entered on that one word.

At that point, Cosette would have liked nothing better than to cry, but she knew it would only warrant her more teasing. She struggled to hold back tears as her roommate got into bed and pulled her curtain back, saying one last thing before falling into a satisfied sleep.

"Good night, Potter's sister."

Cosette placed her books down and pulled the curtain around her bed forward. She stuffed her face into her pillow and cried softy, the true things that Nott had said running through her head loud and rapidly. She didn't know how much time had elapsed after she had cried. She only knew she felt no better, as one usually feels after they have had a good cry. She was also absentmindedly aware of the fact that the other girls she shared her dorm room with had come in and went to bed. She felt her eyelids getting heavy and her body aching for sleep, but her mind was still depressed and not wanting to fall asleep. Then she remembered what Camille had said about how disgusting it was that she slept in her clothes. She quickly got out of bed and grabbed her pajamas. Although the other girls were sleeping she still felt rather uncomfortable with them being their while she changed, so she made a quick dash into the bathroom. She quickly got back into bed and slowly fell asleep.

The next morning brought with it the promise of flying lessons.

Now, at first, Cosette didn't know how she felt about this. Her initial reaction was of the students zipping through the air in a very Superman like fashion, until she found out that they were going to be riding on brooms, instead. Immediately she was reminded of all those old Halloween decorations of ugly, crooked nosed witches on brooms with black cats. She was still in mild surprise over how many of the muggle stereotypes were true.

The flying lessons would take place on Thursday, which was two days from now, and was all the Slytherins were talking about –mainly the Malfoy boy, who kept arrogantly gloating about how superior he was in flying, and how it was ridiculous that they couldn't bring their own brooms from home. The two days leading up to it passed by in a slow pace. Though she and her brother had spent much of the time apart, it didn't get any easier. They met in the few classes they had together and did their homework together on many occasions, but their contact was severely lessened. Harry seemed to be handling the situation better, as he had a new circle of friends that helped distract him.

They were introduced to three new classes as well. Cosette didn't mind two of them, but Professor Quirrell's class on Defense Against the Dark Arts was impossible to focus on. The man had walked into the classroom with a stream of garlic around his neck, explaining how it was to keep the vampires away. He also explained that the reason he wore that ridiculous turban was because it was given to him by an African prince after he saved his life from a zombie. What made his class so completely incomprehensible however, was the fact that Quirrell seemed more afraid of his own class subject than anything, and regularly stumbled across every other word, resulting in Cosette more than a few times re-writing a series of fragmented words that copied the teacher's stuttering habits.

The other two classes were Herbology and History of Magic. The latter of the two was taught by a ghost and was of course the driest on the school's curriculum. The spirit just floated back and forth in a drawling tone about goblin wars in a very monotone, lecturing voice that put most students right to sleep. The only reason why Cosette didn't mind the class was the fact that Professor Binns didn't care for class participation, so she contended herself to taking a seat in the back and reading through her schoolbook, ignoring the impossible-to-follow-without-falling-asleep ghost teaching them. Herbology was rather eventful, as it was taught by the Head of Hufflepuff, Professor Sprout. She was a short round woman with a large, wide grin. The class was filled with the learning of treatment of certain saplings from magical plants. She shared a few of these classes with her brother, and in his opinion, he only really liked Herbology and Transfigurations as of yet, commenting about how annoying History and Charms was, and how hard to follow Defense class was. He also made it a point to state how much he abhorred Potions class, and Cosette didn't need to ask why. The one thing he was excited about, like the rest of the school, was flying lessons.

The day of the flying lesson, Cosette stared at her brother at breakfast, while watching Malfoy swagger up to the table and poke fun at Harry for some reason, and she was starting to see why so many of the Gryffindors didn't like her house. Malfoy had stolen some odd crystal ball from the pudgy Longbottom and this caused a small uproar, which ended with Malfoy pouting and shoving the ball back and storming away after a teacher had intervened.

Cosette tried her best to finish her breakfast but found herself feeling quite sick. What would she be expected to do during the flying lesson? She knew as the under talented person that she was she would be rubbish on a broom and would either horribly embarrass herself or seriously injure herself, or possibly even both. She was more concerned about her brother's wellbeing. She was not sure if she could possibly get through life without her brother. If her twin did anything stupid, if her twin got injured, if her twin died, she didn't know what she would do.

Breakfast ended and the first year students began to exit the Great Hall and make their way onto the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was talking excitedly as they made their way across the grounds. It was starting to get somewhat colder, though the sun still shone brilliantly. The field was large, circular shaped and hundreds of feet wide. On either end there were three barrel goals of different length and beyond that a scoring board. In front of them on the grass were a number of brooms put in two even rows. The kids were talking amongst themselves and slowly circling the brooms while they waited for their instructor. Cosette silently wandered over to a broom to inspect it. It didn't look particularly different from the regular kitchen broom she used at the Dursley's home. The shaft of the broom was made of unfinished wood and the bristles were made of coarse straw. Though the one she always worked with was made of metal, she didn't see how flying on either one was even possible. She mentally envisioned herself back at Privet drive, sweeping the floor and then trying to fly off on one, while Aunt Petunia's face went scarlet and began screaming obscenities as she watched her flying in circles about the kitchen.

From what the older students said, these brooms were old and rickety. She could tell by looking at them they weren't very sturdy, but didn't understand how one broom could be more "aerodynamic" than others. Weren't they all just long sticks of wood? Whatever the case was, these shabby looking brooms were said to be hard to perform basic tricks on and vibrated if they rose too high.

Just then a loud whistle was blown and the murmuring quieted down to whispers. In billowing robes came before them a rather stocky built woman. At first glance, Cosette thought it to be a man because of her build and rather baggy clothes. She had short spiky grey hair and bright yellow eyes. She had a hard cut, angry face that was furrowed into a bitter squint, as if she was looking directly into the sun. Cosette wondered if she always wore this furrowed expression, and judging from the way it remained so unchanged, she feared that she might be right.

"Alright, alright everyone! There will be no more dawdling! Find a broom and stand by it, come on!"

The woman's voice was rather harsh and unpleasant, and she had a note of impatience in her stance. Her manner reminded Cosette very much of a drill sergeant.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the woman barked. "Everyone, find a broom, quick! Hurry up now!"

Everyone scrambled to stand next to a broom and waited patiently. Cosette noticed with a wave of disappointment that the spaces next to Harry were already occupied by Ron Weasley and the Longbottom boy.

The teaching instructor stood tall in front of them, hands placed on her burly hips.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson," she announced. "I am your instructor, Madam Hooch. Flying takes much concentration, and I don't want to see anyone mounting their brooms until I give the sign, is that understood?"

A few kids nodded, but most were still looking beyond edgy and impatient to get started.

"Now, put your hand over your broom and say 'up.'"

There were several timid, unsynchronized callings of the preposition, but with very little success. Cosette's broom stingily twitched, but didn't levitate to meet her grasp. Cosette noticed with a slight pang of envy that on his first try, Harry's broom flew up into his open hand. This feeling however, was soon soothed as she watched as that bushy haired girl from the train, know-it-all extraordinaire, couldn't so much as get her broom to move an inch. Taking a deep breath, Cosette turned her attention back to her own broom as it fidgeted nervously in a manner she was familiar with. Did the brooms copy the mannerisms of their masters? The thought was an interesting one, and would explain why her broom was so nervous. Maybe if she tried not to be so nervous, the broom would obey.

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, Cosette glared at her broom in concentration. Steeling herself, she took one more breath than declared in a loud, authoritative voice unknown to her –

"Up!"

To her surprise, the broom flew up instantly and landed against her palm. Cosette was so surprised, she nearly released the handle. The broom quivered and shook slightly in her grasp, but the sudden rush of pride Cosette felt suddenly made the day feel much better. She had done it, and it was easy!

After several more minutes, everyone's broom was firmly grasped in their hands and was waiting for further instructions.

Madam Hooch circled around and stopped before them.

"Very good," she nodded her head at everyone. "Now, mount your broomstick!"

Everyone followed her command, and as Cosette swung the stick between her legs and felt the cold wood against her bare skin, she suddenly looked hesitant.

"Um…Madam Hooch?" Cosette piped up.

The coach looked sharply in her direction.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Um…" Cosette nervously bit her lip, staring down at her broom.

"The girls…We're all wearing skirts…" The sudden idea of flying up into the air with knee length skirts suddenly felt like a horrible idea. Surely they were supposed to change into shorts of some kind, or something, right?

"Never mind that!" Hooch brushed off angrily, her yellow eyes flashing with annoyance. "When I want fashion tips from my students, I will ask!" she said, giving no recognition of the relevance in Cosette's words.

Several of the male students snickered slightly, Harry looking rather confused. The female students all blushed heavily, embarrassed by the prospect that Cosette had pointed out, and further embarrassed by Madam Hooch's lack of support for the obvious implications they were expected to deal with.

"On my whistle, you will then lightly kick off the ground, hover, then touch back down. Ready? Three, two, one—"

Before she had even blown the whistle, one broom had already taken off into the air. Cosette didn't even need to look to guess who that student was as she heard the telltale sound of Longbottom's wailing. It seemed almost a necessary accomplishment in that Longbottom felt the need to create a disaster of epic proportions in every single class in some way. Cosette had the misfortune of seeing the Gryffindor boy not only fumble with class work, but cause devastation so terribly, he had more than a few times made class end early or had to be rushed off to the Hospital Wing to cure some ailment brought upon by his own incompetence. It seemed like flying lessons would be no exception to the boy's blatant talent at being a complete duffer at every subject.

Madam Hooch was quick to react upon Neville's rather swift ascension. She took out her wand and sent a well aimed spell at Neville's broom that seemed to barely miss as Neville climbed quickly higher. Hugging his broom close as he flew into the air like a firecracker, he unintentionally steered it above the castle.

All he could do was wail in fear, occasionally yelling to his broom, "Down! Down!" but to no avail. He clearly did not understand the simple physics involved with riding a broomstick. Cosette honestly didn't care very much about Longbottom, she was just glad that someone had distracted the class and Madam Hooch to the point where she had a valid excuse to take her broom out from under her legs. After she had done this she began to look for Longbottom in the sky, quickly looking directly above her to make sure he was not about to fall on top of her. She looked at Madam Hooch and followed her furrowed gaze to where Longbottom was. Madam Hooch didn't seem that concerned for him; on the contrary, she seemed annoyed, just waiting for him to fall off.

Neville did fall off, several stories above the castle. Madam Hooch watched him fall a slight smirk on her face as she watched his wailing face. She then took out her wand and cast a spell that seemed to slow Neville down significantly, but not enough to prevent him from hitting the ground hard enough to break his wrist with a sickening crack. She chuckled slightly in a rather unpleasant way. She walked over to the sniveling lump that was Neville Longbottom, who promptly vomited by her shoes.

"Spewing vomit like an Italian fountain…"

She turned to the rest of the class and addressed them.

"See? This is what happens to you when you don't listen to my instructions."

She then turned back to Neville.

"Longbottom was it?"

"Y-y-yes m-ma'am…" Neville whimpered.

"Well your Wetbottom now, we best get you to the hospital wing. Come on," she said helping him up.

"Anyone who is caught in the air while I am gone will be expelled faster than you can say 'Wetbottom'."

Cosette found the whole incident rather amusing but at the same time felt like she suddenly no longer wanted to fly very much. If possible, she was less keen to fly than before. After seeing Longbottom get injured and how Madam Hooch handled it, she was not at all interested in ever flying.

"Did you see that fat oaf's face?" the jeering voice of Malfoy filled the pitch as soon as Madam Hooch was out of sight. The Slytherins around him all started laughing.

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

The Slytherins stopped and stared over at the Gryffindor who bravely spoke up.

"I didn't know you had a thing for fat cry-babies, Parvati," Pansy Parkinson sneered.

Parvati's face turned a bright scarlet at the remark.

Malfoy looked down at his feet, where he kicked a small spherical object.

"And look! It's Wetbottom's little toy!" Here he picked up the crystal ball Cosette saw him messing with at breakfast.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry spoke up, stepping forward. Immediately Cosette felt the sparks flying between the two heated rivals.

"No, I don't think I will," Malfoy snickered, holding up the ball as if it were a trophy. "I think I'll leave it for Wetbottom to find, like in a tree, or how about on top of the Astronomy tower?" Malfoy nudged his head in the direction of Neville's discarded broom. "He seems to go there often enough."

At this point, Malfoy mounted his broom with great ease and swerved gracefully in front of Harry in a taunting manner. Cosette watched as Harry's lips thinned and knew immediately what that look implied, and that he was about to do an act of phenomenal stupidity.

The moment Harry mounted his own broom to follow; that bushy haired Gryffindor walked up and grabbed hold of his robes.

"Harry you can't; you heard what Madam Hooch said. You can get in a lot of trouble! Expelled even!"

Harry hadn't seemed to see the obvious truth in his housemate's words, nor did he take into consideration that he didn't know anything about how to fly other than how to hold the stick between his legs. With a sudden wave of dread she watched as her brother kicked off the ground awkwardly and shot towards Malfoy like a javelin, who suddenly looked nervous.

"Give it here Malfoy," Harry called out, gripping the upper part of his broom tightly. "Or I'll knock you off your broom."

"No," Malfoy continued to climb higher, backing away from Harry's advancing broom. "You'll have to catch it first."

At this, Malfoy's hand reared back, and he threw from it the crystal ball. Everyone watched as the ball went soaring through the air and held their breath for the awaiting sound of the crash as it hit the ground. However, Harry jammed his broomstick forward and launched himself after the ball, as if his life depended on it. As it sailed through the air and quickly descended, Cosette watched, as if in slow motion, a scream caught in her throat as her brother fiercely pushed down on his broom and nailed himself into a ninety degree nose dive.

Cosette's body went numb as he quickly approached the ground at rapid speed. Her body chilled and her blood felt like ice through her veins. She didn't even notice when Harry caught the insignificant object, or how he reared back the broom right before his broom's handle sank into the ground, nor did she pay attention to the loud rampant applause the Gryffindors launched themselves in at his landing. All she felt was panic and an unbelievable amount of terror at seeing her brother nearly kill himself over some blubbering kid's toy.

Cosette felt like dead weight, and felt her legs give way, trying to deal with the shock that was overflowing through her body. No one seemed to notice Cosette as she sat there with a deadpanned expression on her face. She didn't even notice as Professor McGonagall made her way out onto the grounds, stammering uncontrollably for Harry to follow her. It was a very different experience to watch her brother almost die then it was to watch Longbottom.

Harry couldn't be happier, he had ridden on a broomstick and it felt amazing. He had caught the Remembrall in his hand and was now surrounded by his cheering classmates who were all just amazed by the stunt. He was just wondering why his sister was not among the many faces cheering for him when he heard McGonagall call him over.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry's heart sank as he heard McGonagall's voice. His happiness couldn't have shrunk more if McGonagall had beaten him over the head with his broom.

"Never…in all my years at Hogwarts…" Professor McGonagall's face had contorted in an unpleasant mixture of shock, anger and concern.

"Come with me, immediately!"

Shoulders sinking, Harry followed his Head of House, not even noticing that he dropped his broom to be forgotten on the Quidditch pitch. The last thing he heard before they were too far away was Malfoy and his cronies snickering in triumph.

"What were you even thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed! Snapped your neck like a toothpick! Then what would have happened?"

McGonagall's rhetorical ranting only made Harry feel worse. This was serious. Madam Hooch said they'd get expelled from Hogwarts if they were to get on their brooms. They had no supervision however, so how can they really blame them? Who would leave a bunch of anxious eleven year olds with flying implements alone and expect only a simple warning to heed them? She was a rather nasty woman, and Harry briefly wondered how she could get away with insulting the students like she had. Neville certainly didn't deserve it.

All thoughts of Hooch left as the real implications of his actions sunk in. He was going to get expelled. This was it. He had only to taste a wonderful life at Hogwarts to be viciously yanked away from him. It was only the first week of school, too. Harry's heart clenched painfully at the thought of leaving Hogwarts and his sister. How could he even deal with the abuse of the Dursleys, knowing that while he was stuck there, she was off having a blast learning magic at Hogwarts? How could he deal with being alone?

Harry didn't even notice where McGonagall was leading him; he just kept his head downcast in shame. They stopped in front of a door and McGonagall knocked briskly at it. Looking up, Harry watched as she disrupted Professor Quirrell's fifth year class.

"Excuse me, Professor Quirrell, but could I borrow Wood for a while?"

Wood? Was McGonagall borrowing an implement the teacher's used to beat kids? No doubt the teacher's made this "wood" famous amongst the students if they gave it this nickname and teachers borrowed it from one another.

Quirrell, in his typical twitchy nature, had jumped almost out of his skin when the Transfigurations teacher knocked on the door.

"Y-y-yes, of c-c-course," he managed to say.

A fifth year boy stepped out of the class room, burly and brown haired. He looked over the two of them with a confused look. Harry was relieved to know that Wood was a student. Although his relief was short lived as he remembered the situation he was in. Then it struck him; why was it this fifth year student needed to come? Clearly Wood was not an implement used for beating kids, but then what exactly was he for?

"Both of you follow me," Professor McGonagall said and turned sharply.

The two boys looked at each other in bewilderment for a second before following. They made their way up a corridor and she hastily opened one of the large doors, ushering them to enter it with a stiff hand motion.

"In, both of you," she said to them.

They both entered into the classroom, finding it empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing the words '_Carrie White eats shit' _on the walls.

"Peeves! Out!" McGonagall bellowed. The poltergeist slumped its shoulders before chucking the chalk over his shoulder and storming out, throwing curses and nasty looks at them all the way. Quickly, McGonagall slammed the door shut behind him and with a quick wave of her wand, she erased the graffiti Peeves had left behind.

Turning swiftly, she looked over the two boys for a second before addressing Harry.

"Mr. Potter, this is Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." She then fixed her glasses on the older boy. "Wood, I have found you a new seeker," she stated proudly.

Her angered visage turned to one of sudden pride.

Wood looked surprised at first, and then turned slowly to give Harry a disbelieved, incredulous glance. He then seemed to make up his mind about something and shook his head, then turned with a skeptical look and asked in a worried tone—

"Really… Who?" he asked carefully.

McGonagall looked affronted slightly.

"Why, Mr. Potter, of course!"

Wood looked as if his worst nightmare had come true.

"You can't be serious," Wood's eyes went almost comically wide. When he saw McGonagall's sudden raised eyebrow, he quickly cleared his throat.

"Potter? But Professor McGonagall, with all due respect, he's only a first year, he couldn't possibly have the experience."

"I saw him today with my own eyes, Wood," she told him, holding out Neville's Remembrall; an object he had shown his peers over breakfast that his Gran had sent him. "He caught this at a fifty-foot dive."

Wood looked at the object in disbelief.

"Are you sure…?"

"The boy is obviously a natural," McGonagall continued. "Was that your first time on a broom, Mr. Potter?"

Harry, who still couldn't believe what was going on, nodded his head. Wood didn't seem at all relieved by the teacher's praise, in fact; he looked all the more skeptical.

"He's only had one flying lesson? Surely you can't expect me to assign him the position based on one little trick –"

"That wasn't a simple trick on a broom and you know it, Mr. Wood. Charlie Weasley couldn't even pull that off."

Harry didn't know how good Ron's older brother was at Quidditch, but he was willing to bet by the way the McGonagall was saying it, that it was a huge compliment.

Seemingly running out of ways to get around it, Wood shifted his eyes to Harry.

"Well…erm…he's the right build I guess, scrawny enough, definitely," he mulled over.

"He'd do his father proud," McGonagall continued. "He was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you see. An excellent player."

Harry's face brightened at those words.

"And I'm sure you can shape him up to be a great Seeker."

Wood still looked beyond reluctant, obviously thinking that he'd be more of a burden to his Quidditch team than anything. He sighed in defeat.

"Erm…right… maybe he won't be too bad if we get him a good broom…a Nimbus Two-thousand or a Cleansweep…"

"I'll see what I can do," the Professor said. "I'll see if Professor Dumbledore can make an exception this once. He must certainly see the dire necessity in this situation."

Wood looked back over at Harry.

"Do you like Quidditch, Potter?" he asked.

Harry looked suddenly nervous. The older boy was already skeptical of him; how would he react when he told him he didn't even know how to play, or what even a Seeker was?

"We'll win the Quidditch Cup for sure, I know it! I don't think I can stand it again, seeing Severus Snape's triumphant smirk as Slytherin takes the cup yet again! It's been sitting in his possession for too long now!"

Harry baulked somewhat, not expecting such a competitive drive to be in such a tight mannered woman such as McGonagall. It seemed that the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry ran deeper than just between the fellow students.

"You'll train hard, won't you Mr. Potter? Otherwise, I'll have to reevaluate your punishment."

These words seemed to finally sink in the final thought of Harry's relief. He wasn't going to be expelled! On the contrary, he was offered to play on the Gryffindor's Quidditch team and do something he knew instantly he would enjoy –flying. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel just as, if not more, skeptical as Wood. McGonagall was giving him her confidence, but Wood was right, he didn't know the first thing about Quidditch. He couldn't help but feel that McGonagall's confidence was misplaced. He didn't even have a single flying lesson under his belt, the lesson never got started. Yet, McGonagall was in effect threatening him. If he didn't take the spot he was expected to take on the team, she would have to reevaluate his punishment. So his options were limited; get expelled, or train hard in a sport he was yet to know the rules to. The choice was rather clear, so Harry didn't need to think long before answering.

"Yes I will, Professor McGonagall!"

Wood looked hesitant, awkward and a little upset and Harry could hardly blame him, in all honesty. McGonagall, on the other hand, smiled brightly at Harry's response and left the room saying,

"I will go talk with Professor Dumbledore about adding an exception to the rule. Do us all proud Potter," she said positively beaming at him.

"Alright…" Harry said, trying to figure out what he should be thinking right now.

On one hand, he had just got off scot free; on the other, he would have to play a sport he didn't know anything about.

After McGonagall left the room, Wood turned awkwardly to Harry.

"So, what experience do you have with Quidditch?" he asked.

"I don't have any…"

Wood grew pale at this response and continued.

"What do you know about the game?"

"I know that it's apparently played on broomsticks… That's about it…"

If at all possible, Wood had managed to go even paler at this. He surveyed Harry with a wary eye and then spoke, in barely a whisper.

"I'll assess you and humor McGonagall, if you prove not to be all that great, and it's okay if you are, I'll talk to McGonagall about finding a replacement."

Harry simply nodded.

"Although McGonagall can be stubborn, especially when proven wrong about something," Wood said. "You'd better be the prodigy she claims you to be."

Harry again nodded.

"I would also appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this until I have assessed you. I want to keep this quiet in case it proves to be a blemish to our team."

Again, Harry gave a short nod in response. He didn't like the fact that he had become a burden to someone else; it was if McGonagall was punishing Wood for his actions. He didn't know what to say to Wood.

"I'm heading back to class… See you around, I guess…" Wood said as he stepped out into the corridor leaving Harry alone, thoroughly confused on what to think.

At the very least, he couldn't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when he learned he had not been expelled, but put on the Gryffindor house Quidditch team. Then he suddenly remembered he had promised Wood he would not tell anyone.

By the time lunch had rolled by, Cosette still hadn't gotten over the shock of what had happened that morning. She did not take notes, or even listen to anything Professor Snape had said because she was still trying to deal with the shock from the flying lesson earlier. It was just as well, because Professor Snape had continued to ignore her and she was beginning to think she would not be noticed by him even if she threw her cauldron at his desk. To boot, all Cosette could think about after the initial shock was how much trouble he could be in. She would be left all alone in the school; a prospect she felt she could not possibly deal with. She didn't know if she could deal with it here alone—it was already almost unbearable as it was. If it came to the worst, Cosette resigned herself to follow him. If Harry was expelled, she'd drop out and leave with him. She kept on rolling her mind into higher levels of anxiety as time passed. When lunch came around, she didn't care if she was yelled at by the Gryffindors, she had to go over and see what Professor McGonagall had done to Harry.

She spotted her brother quickly and went over to talk to him. He was explaining something excitedly to Ron, which made her happy to know he was okay, but she was still anxious and this could not wait. She walked up to Harry and made her presence known. Harry looked at her positively beaming, seeing him happy calmed her nerves a bit.

"Hey, can I talk to you by any chance… if you're not too busy?" Cosette asked shyly.

"I can talk," Harry said. "What's up?"

"Not here, please…" Cosette said giving nervous glances to Harry's housemates.

Harry looked concerned, but understood. He nodded and got up to follow his sister outside of the Great Hall. As soon as they were out of an earshot of everyone, Cosette turned to Harry.

"So, what did they do to you?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Nothing…" Harry admitted, and one could hardly describe how relieved Cosette was.

So relieved, that she was a little skeptical believing this was the whole truth.

"They didn't do anything?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to say…"

"What is it?" Cosette asked, feeling nervous again.

"Well, they made me part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Harry said, a smile playing across his face.

Cosette was even more disbelieving. Her brother had nearly killed himself on a broomstick to retrieve a mere toy, and he didn't get any punishment, he was rewarded and became an exception to a rule Malfoy had made clear existed from his ramblings in the common room.

"Are you serious?" Cosette asked, not sure what to say if it was true, but she knew her brother would never lie to her.

"Yeah I know, isn't it awesome?" Harry said, oblivious to Cosette's mood.

Why was it that all the teachers worshipped the ground Harry walked on? It was an almost unbearable form of favoritism. What's more, he was given leave to do more of the things that he had nearly killed himself on.

"No, it's not awesome…" Cosette said simply, this response seemed to surprise Harry. "Why on earth did you try to kill yourself for Wetbottom's toy?"

"Don't call him that," Harry corrected quickly, defending his housemate. He then wrinkled his face at her complaint and shrugged.

"And I got off didn't I?"

"That's not the point. You can't always expect to be a miracle exception to the rules just because you're Harry Potter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry blinked, confused and insulted. "McGonagall let me off because of my skill; she wanted me on the Gryffindor Quidditch team because she wanted her house to win the Quidditch cup from Slytherin."

"Then it's still a form of obnoxious favoritism."

Harry looked affronted; he clearly thought that Cosette's mood to the whole thing would be dramatically different.

"Well, look at the facts; I'm not dead, I'm not in trouble, and I'm on a sports team. I really liked flying today and I can't deny I'm excited to fly again to play Quidditch."

"It's not about those facts, it's the facts about what a stupid stunt you pulled in the first place and then got rewarded for breaking the rules."

Harry seemed somewhat annoyed. He had not expected his sister to feel this way. Cosette down cast her head, beginning to explain herself.

"If you had any idea how scared I—"

"What's wrong with you?" Harry interrupted.

Cosette bit her tongue midway through her sentence feeling even more slighted than Harry.

"You should be happy for me like everyone else," Harry said sternly, as if trying to sway her.

Cosette couldn't have been more hurt and annoyed by this.

"I'm sorry I don't worship the ground you walk on. I'm your sister, so pardon me if I don't jump on the opportunity to sign up for your new fan club!"

"You know what I meant!" Harry said shaking his head.

"You're right for once; I do know what you mean."

With that, Cosette walked back into the Great Hall, without another word. She sat down, angrily fuming about her idiot brother.

Harry had returned to his own table as well. He sat down angrily next to Ron in a much sourer mood than when he had left. Why was his sister being so difficult? What did she even mean by saying those things about a fan club? She was being irrational, and probably just wanted to spoil his good mood. Why couldn't she be happy for him? Ron looked at Harry's bitter expression, noticed the dramatic difference in his mood, and asked what was wrong.

"What happened, Harry?"

Harry, still feeling very bitter and slightly hurt, explained to Ron what happened. The red-head's face was blank for a second, and then he shrugged his shoulders.

"She's just jealous, mate. Isn't it obvious?" he shrugged, piling his plate with mounds of sandwiches.

Harry had lost whatever appetite he had come to lunch with, and just stared down at his half-finished plate.

"You think so?" he asked.

Ron nodded his head.

"Yeah," Ron took a large bite of his sandwich, and began talking with his mouth still full. "You know how many people would die to get the position you were offered? And only in your first year?" Ron swallowed deeply and reached for his drink.

It made sense, Harry thought. Maybe his sister was jealous that he got the position, yet it didn't sound like her. The two of them never got jealous of each other.

"I don't know…" Harry murmured, furrowing his brows.

"She's a Slytherin, Harry. Gryffindor's rival. She just doesn't want to see you win back the Quidditch Cup." Before Harry could even get in a comment, Ron's face brightened.

"And just think about if you are some sort of prodigy! We'll definitely get the cup for sure!"

Ron's enthusiasm was slowly bringing his anger down to a slow simmer.

"McGonagall said I was the youngest Seeker in a century…" he continued to mutter. "And Cosette isn't the type to hold a temper for me, in fact…I can't remember a single time where she _was_ really this angry with me."

"See?" Ron's smile was wide and toothy. "She'll get over it, I'm sure. Once she sees how amazing you'll be. She'll be all excited for you and forget about her housemates."

Ron must be right. His sister's anger couldn't last long, and she was probably just affected by her stupid house's title of Quidditch Champion. She'd soon see how ridiculous it was and would be cheering for him. She'd be proud and he'd see her beaming face among the crowds. The thought made him smile and soon he returned to his lunch.

The remainder of the day went at a pleasant pace for Harry, but Cosette was utterly miserable. This was the first time in her entire life that she had ever had an argument with her brother of that magnitude. Her annoyance for people's worshipping of her brother grew into bitter anger. She couldn't stand it, and her twin had been happily receptive of it. A student above the rules, who was coveting his fame, but what annoyed her the most was the fact that he felt she should be obligated to join his fan-club.

She walked rather slowly to class and managed to take notes from Professor Flitwick, they had also started practicing the Lumos charm which Cosette found to be very easy from her frequent study habits, but all the same, she was simply relieved to be able to go back down to her common room afterwards. It was dinner, but she didn't feel hungry at all and decided to skip it. She went down to her barren common room which was empty aside from two first years in the back under a table, one boy and one girl she recognized as Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. She looked at them somewhat shocked at how they took turns "peeking" at one another in a rather inappropriate manner. She wasn't sure what they were doing, but she was sure she didn't want to know. She turned away and sidled off to her dorm room.


	12. Three Heads are Better Than One

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12<p>

Three Heads are Better Than One

If Harry thought his day couldn't get any worse, he was sorely mistaken as the smirking face of Draco Malfoy and his two bodyguards Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle approached.

"Enjoying your last supper, Potter?" he snickered, stopping just before the Gryffindor table. All around him the other Gryffindors glared at them.

"Have you packed all your bags yet? When's your train leave, huh? I wouldn't want to miss sending you off."

"You seem much more confident now that your feet are on the ground and you have your two bodyguards to protect you," Harry pointed out with a withering look.

He was in no mood to deal with Malfoy right now. He knew that in his current state, he'd punch Malfoy out at the rate he was going and that would not end well. Looking over at the two lumbering boys standing just behind Malfoy, Harry reckoned that provoking the Slytherins into a fight would only result in him getting thoroughly pummeled. Years spent as Dudley's punching bag had taught him how to pick his battles.

"I don't need anyone in order to take you out, Potter," Malfoy huffed. "Tonight. We'll have a Wizard's Duel. If you're not too scared, that is,"

"He's not afraid of you," Ron piped up, standing proudly by his side.

"Fine then," the Slytherin sniffed, "You'll be his second then, I imagine?"

Harry was growing nervous, he didn't know what a Wizard's Duel was, let alone what it meant to be one's second. He kept his composure as best he could, hoping Ron would do all the talking.

Malfoy fleetingly looked over his two henchmen, sizing them up. "Crabbe will be mine then. Midnight tonight, in the trophy room; it's always unlocked. And do be sure not to chicken out, Potter."

Ron's eyes narrowed.

"We'll be there."

Then, with a satisfied smirk, the three Slytherins sauntered off back towards their table. Harry's mood had reached an all new level of low as he glared daggers at the back of Malfoy as he left.

"That Malfoy…" Harry grumbled.

Ron nodded his head.

"Ron, what is a Wizard's Duel, anyway?"

The Red-head's face lit up slightly.

"Well, it's when two wizards face each other off with only their wands and try to out-cast the other into submission. Usually it's done to settle a dispute or when they're fighting over something."

Harry had the funny image in his head of two wizards in cowboy costumes facing off, quickly reaching their gun holsters to pull out their wand. Tumbleweed slowly blew behind them. Harry shook his head to get rid of the humorous thought.

"And what's a second? You said you were my second?"

"Oh, that's in case you die. Then I fight in your place," Ron said casually.

Harry blinked in disbelief. They could die?

Seeing Harry's nervous look, Ron quickly continued.

"No one's actually gonna die. It's not going to be a proper Wizard's Duel. We're barely into a week of school, so what harmful spells can he know? Lumos?"

Harry thought with a wave of discomfort that Malfoy seemed to be the kind of kid who grew up in a family who regularly practiced a lot of harmful spells.

"I bet he was just bluffing anyway," Ron shrugged.

"But Ron," Harry shuffled slightly, now feeling more than a bit unnerved. "What if I can't get any spell to work? What if I wave my wand and nothing comes out?"

Ron Shrugged.

"Poke him in the eye with it and see what happens," Ron suggested.

There was suddenly a loud coughing sound to their right, and turning their heads, both boys groaned upon seeing the bushy-headed form of Hermione Granger.

"I couldn't help but overhear—"

"Of course you did," Ron muttered.

"And I have to implore you. Do _not_ go. Wizard's Duels are serious business, I've read about them," she remarked in a scolding manner. "Besides, you have already been in enough trouble as it is. If you're caught— and you're bound to be— you'd only lose Gryffindor more points and unlike _you_, _I_ want to win the House Cup this year. If you ask me, it's really rather selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," Harry growled, throwing her a dark look.

He was in no mood to hear her mouth off at him. He already had to listen to her preach about the proper tips on flying for the past two days and he had enough from everyone.

"Let's go, Harry," Ron said and the two of them turned from their plates and left.

Cosette ignored her brother in the classes they shared. She was disgusted and hurt and simply looking over at her brother made her feel all different levels of anger. She had never felt this way before, and she wondered why all of a sudden such an outburst happened. All the days this week she had this little twinge in the back of her mind and it kept eating at her every time someone mentioned her brother with a little more interest than they would someone else. It had been bottled up because she really didn't know what it was, and until today, she had ignored it. Yet, his nonchalance about his own health and how he expected her to grovel before him like everyone else seemed to light the fuse. It all came out in one catastrophic explosion.

They had never had such an argument before. She had never been so angry at her brother, and yet it felt like all the tension she had built up since they first were introduced to the wizarding world would eventually lead up to something like this. She hadn't expected it to be such a big thing—didn't think she's react so angrily. But couldn't he see what all of this was doing to her? To them? Just because he was popular, she was expected to fawn over him? Cosette was disgusted by it all. They were the same in many ways—they were twins! Yet, no one ever seemed to give her a second look. Everything was always her brother. Harry. Harry Potter. Potter. Potter! The Boy Who Lived! The Boy Who Everyone Loves! Gryffindor's King! Quidditch Hero! Who was she? Potter's Sister. Not even recognized.

Cosette felt a jealous growl break from her lips. It was such a foreign sound, that it almost scared her. She couldn't even concentrate on her homework properly. Angrily, she cast her Charms homework to the side, listening in satisfaction as it slumped against the floor by her bed. She needed to get some air; she needed to get out of here. Right now.

Getting up from her bed, Cosette latched on to her Potions book and made for the door and stomped her way into the common room. There were quite a few people present at this point, sitting around the fire, sharing a laugh. She noted the first years from earlier were not there and she was rather thankful for that. She recognized one of the people who were there as Malfoy. He seemed to be the leader of the ring and was boisterously explaining some sort of prank he was playing on someone.

"—And he actually believed me! The sod actually is going to wait in the trophy room for me to have a Wizard's Duel with at midnight! Can you believe it?" Malfoy laughed, and his entourage joined him. "I only wish I could be there to see his face when instead of me, he finds Filch there waiting for him!"

So, Malfoy had got some poor idiot to actually fall for his stupid stunt? She might have found it amusing if she were in the right state of mind for it, but she was far too angry to even visualize a student like Wetbottom sniveling in fear at the sight of Filch catching them after curfew.

She walked past the horde of Slytherins and marched right towards the exit.

"Oy, ginger!" someone called out in her direction.

Ah, yet another nickname for her to add to the growing list.

"Hey! Potter's sister! Where ya going? You do realize it's almost curfew, right?"

Cosette didn't even turn to see who was addressing her. Too furious, she marched on, ignoring them and walked out of the common room. She walked through the dungeons rather aimlessly when she decided a productive thing to do while she thought would be to explore the castle. It was about a half an hour until nine, the official curfew. She would be able to explore a bit, be alone and think for that time.

She ascended from the dungeon and went to find a quiet hole to hide in and read her school book. However, no matter where she turned, nothing looked quite safe. She knew for a fact that Filch and Professor Snape regularly patrolled the halls, and she didn't think that she could find anywhere safe enough to hide herself, especially with her terrible knowledge of all the school's many hidden rooms and labyrinth style corridors.

She spent a good amount of time wandering around, getting acquainted and learning the ins and outs of the castle, carefully hiding in the shadows in case she ran into a teacher. By the time she reached a breezeway, she noticed a small, secluded garden-like area she recognized as the boathouse that all the first years had arrived in. Inquisitively, Cosette wandered over and tried the door, curious if she could find a way in. To her surprise, the door was not only unlocked, but also opened slightly ajar. The crack between the door gave way the sight of the wooden interior of the shed. Half smiling to herself, Cosette pushed open the door and let herself in, closing it behind her with a creak as the rusted hinges groaned. Hagrid must have forgotten to lock the door.

Inside was just as she remembered, cold, wet and grungy and smelled heavily of damp wood. The walls were lined with some obscure tools of some sort, and the boats swayed gently against the water's current. It was quiet save for the occasional splash of water or groaning ropes, and Cosette was certain she found the perfect place to hide away from everyone. Happy with herself for her find, Cosette sat cross legged on the ground with her book in her lap. She quickly opened the book and started to read, cataloguing in her mind what Tannis root could do when properly mixed with Redwort. She was determined to do better in class, and if she had to stay there the whole night studying, then so be it.

Before she knew it, several hours had gone by. Cosette had already read through half of her potions book and tried her hardest to memorize much of it by the time she felt her eyes growing heavy with sleepiness. Groaning, she sat up and stretched her stiff legs. Not knowing what time it was, but knowing it must have been late, Cosette decided to head back to her common room. She quietly slipped through the door, making sure to close it behind her and remember to come back here the next time she was looking for a place to hide away.

The hallways were deserted now and ominously quiet. The lights were off save for the torches that lit up when she approached. She was feeling the sleepiness getting to her and knew she had to get back before she collapsed in the hallway. As she wandered up the hall, Cosette had lost her earlier caution, sleepiness causing her body to react with sluggishness. And so, when she turned the corner, she didn't notice when she almost ran into Argus Filch, the unpleasant caretaker of the school.

Filch glowered at her and was immediately suspicious to her intentions.

"Aha, I found a student trying to sneak away. Think you're above the rules don't you, eh?"

Cosette's face went pale and she almost dropped her book. All sleepiness had left her. Filch briefly noted her and looked her up and down before stopping at her hair and walked over to her, making a disciplinary grab for her wrist.

"I bet you're a Weasley girl, with that hair," he said, sounding not at all amused.

Cosette, though terrified, did not want to have Filch's hands on her. She wrenched backwards to avoid his grasp, staring at him with horror as his eyes widened in fury. He tried to grab her once again and Cosette recoiled once more, taking a step back. In no time, before Filch could try again or yell at her, Cosette turned tail and ran with all her might down the corridor.

It did not take much to lose Filch, who tried his best to keep pace with her. She turned a corner and ran up a flight of steps and turned another corner, pelting down another corridor and into a large cathedral sized classroom she had never been in before. She quickly closed the door behind her, confidant she had lost Filch who was still trying to make his way up the stairs.

She then proceeded to look around the room she had entered. It was a cavernous room that was oddly claustrophobic with the many bookshelves and surrounding derelict darkness. The only source of light was a small lantern perched atop an oak desk in the head of the room. The oil lamp inside flickered gently and playfully in the silent darkness. Cosette smiled to herself, glad she had entered this room and proceeded to look at the books aligning the wall. All of them seemed to be very large and complex, and covered a variety of subjects. Most were in foreign languages or on the structure of proper spells. The books seemed to give one the groundwork for making up their own spells in a way to make them actually work. Almost instantly intrigued, she set down her potions book and picked one off the shelf to marvel at the carved leather that it was bound in. She looked at the title, which was in Latin, and couldn't understand it. She opened the book, marveling at the strange words. It did not disappoint her that she couldn't read it, it fascinated her; it made her want to learn Latin.

She bitterly placed the book on the shelf, realizing that she couldn't learn Latin through this tome. She instead picked up the next book that looked interesting. This one was bound in dark green leather with a bronze plate on the front with a title that was all in what Cosette thought must be Hebrew. Again fascinated, she opened the book to behold the Hebrew text within. She then replaced the book on its shelf thinking how much she wanted to learn Hebrew now.

She looked at the many other books feeling much better than she did when she first left the common room. She wasn't sure if it would be alright if she borrowed some of the books, however, she felt certain whoever owned all of them would not miss just one, but which one should she take? Then, as she cast her eyes about the shelves, her vision halted at one particular book. Her eyes immediately shot wide as she recognized the huge, colossal text that took up half the corner shelf. Quickly she walked towards it and stared at its spine, recognizing the Blackened leather and pale lettering. It was LeMarchand's book.

Eagerly, she fit her hands around the sides and gave a few insistent pulls. The book hardly moved from the shelf, only shifted slightly at her persistence. It took her a good long minute to gain purchase before she was able to heave the book sideways. It fell with a dull thud against the shelf, dust particles flying up into the air. As she looked over the book however, she couldn't help but notice how very different this version of '_The Architecture of Madness' _was from the one she saw in Flourish and Blotts. Where the book in Diagon Alley was black and sleek, this book was rather rough and instead it looked like the leather was blackened due to being charred versus the color of the stain, it also looked as if it were made of an unusual kind of hide. The cover of the book was covered with pictograms and the border of the title was carved and indented to resemble several nude figures entwined and contorted together. Several of their faces were contorted in expressions that Cosette couldn't distinguish between either extreme agony or intense pleasure.

Marveling at the severe difference, Cosette rose her hand to gently caress the cover. The second her hand touched the coarse leather front, a feeling of intense iciness overcame her. The hairs on the back of Cosette's neck stood straight up, and she suddenly felt a harsh wave of foreboding. The air around felt ominous and dead and she watched with fascination as the entangled naked bodies began writhing and sighing against each other in a sort of morbid dance. Cosette was repulsed and fascinated all at once.

Having found the book that Cosette wanted, she once again grabbed the book's edges. The volume was wider than she was and rather awkward to handle, and it took many great heaves before she finally got it to the edge. However, when the book teetered over the edge, Cosette lost all hold on the book, misjudging its weight and it fell to the floor with an echoing slam.

Cosette had to cover her ears at the loud thundering impact. She waited a few seconds to make sure that the alarming sound hadn't reached Filch to alert her presence, when she heard a voice from behind her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Cosette had almost jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice addressing her. Doing a complete 180 degree turn, she looked white-faced at the figure she hadn't noticed was there. Guiltily, her eyes landed on the figure huddled by the desk. There was a woman seated there, glaring at her with a raised brow.

"I…I…" Cosette was frozen in place, terrified at the prospect of getting caught, and cursing herself silently for the fact that she so clearly didn't notice the presence of a teacher.

"I asked you a question, there, Ms…?" the woman trailed off expectantly.

"C-Cosette," she muttered, staring down at the guilty book by her feet. "I mean, erm… Potter."

"Potter, eh?" the woman seemed to frown a bit before sitting back in her chair. As she did so, Cosette could clearly make out her profile.

The woman had a small, hourglass figure which was held in a tight fitting black dress. What was the most prominent feature about her was the abundant amount of cleavage the woman seemed to be in possession of. Her dress was almost inappropriately low cut, her large breasts almost spilling out of her dress. She was also in possession of a full head of blonde hair. Her features were sharp, but very attractive, and Cosette wondered if she was even a teacher, since she obviously wasn't dressed like one. Cosette placed her age in her late twenties, and her appearance made Cosette feel very inadequate in comparison.

"You do realize that it is after curfew, don't you?"

Her eyes shifted nervously.

"Y-yes ma'am."

"And that I should be alerting your Head of House, maybe? Which house would that be? Come closer."

Cosette nervously stepped forward. Her eyes danced over Cosette critically.

"A Slytherin? Very well, all the same. What business do you have in my classroom, or did you just come wishing to make off with one of my books?" the teacher asked.

Cosette was left standing there, uncertain on how exactly she could explain her reasoning. Fortunately, just as Cosette's mouth opened to say a half-hearted reply, the classroom door opened. On instinct, Cosette back pedaled until her body was completely hidden within the shadows.

With a wave of dread, Cosette watched the slight limping figure of Filch make his way into the room. Filch made his way to the front desk, walking right past Cosette as if she wasn't there, clearly not noticing her presence. She watched with a confused look. Filch looked much more in an amiable mood. On contrary, Filch's usually sour, nasty expression was completely bereft. Instead, he seemed to be smiling almost, crooked, blackened teeth poking out in all their glory. His hand timidly rose up to pat down his hair, as if that alone could make his oily thin hair look slightly presentable.

"I'm sorry to disrupt you, Professor Grimsdyke—ma'am," Filch spoke with a fanciful tone.

It was such an odd thing to see—Filch sounding pleasant to someone?

"No disruption, Argus. Is there something I can help you with?" the teacher, addressed as Professor Grimsdyke, asked pleasantly.

At the sound of her voice, Filch seemed to straighten his posture. His face was still held in that unpleasant grin, and it began to dawn on Cosette that Filch was absolutely smitten by the professor. Inwardly, she gagged at the idea of Filch trying to impress her.

"No, no, everything is fine, ma'am. Just patrolling the hallways, lookin' for kids out of bed. You know how much those miscreants love to get into trouble," Filch responded, tugging at his clothes in a manner he felt made him look more distinguished.

"Ah yes. It's a shame they got rid of the thumbscrews, isn't it?" Professor Grimsdyke remarked whimsically.

Filch's face brightened.

"Oh, yes. Terrible shame, just terrible," the caretaker seemed to let a glossy sheen take over his eyes.

He then cleared his throat, as if suddenly remembering why he had come.

"I don't wish to disturb you, but, have you by any chance seen any children running about? I believe one of those Weasley brats are running around."

It was obvious that Filch felt that Grimsdyke shared his interest in torturing students, and this alone made Cosette tremble, not knowing what was going to happen to her. Instead of ratting her out however, Grimsdyke only smiled brightly and leaned forward, inadvertently causing her chest to stick out.

"No, Argus, the three of us are completely alone here," she replied smoothly.

For several seconds, Filch just stood there staring at her with a wide smile, gaze farther south than her own eyes, before he was snapped back into reality and cleared his throat again.

"Yes, well… I best be going then, must keep an eye out…you know how it is…"

Professor Grimsdyke nodded her head in his direction, smiling slightly.

"Good night, Argus."

Filch bowed his head before taking on a backwards shuffle, not taking his eyes off of the Professor. Finally, when he got to the door, and almost ran into it, he turned and left.

Cosette had been holding her breath since Filch had entered the room. She was only a few feet away from him and she was surprised he hadn't noticed her. It was obvious that the teacher's presence was enough to distract him enough to not perceive she was there. Yet, why had the teacher not told him about her?

"You can come out of hiding now, Ms. Potter," her voice called out after the resounding sound of her classroom door shut.

Hesitantly, Cosette stepped back out of the shadows, approaching the desk where the teacher was sitting. She watched as she started writing on a piece of parchment, curiously enough with a fountain pen in opposition to the quills most people at Hogwarts seemed to favor.

"Are you interested in LeMerchand?" she suddenly asked, not looking up from her papers.

Cosette hesitated, not sure if she was getting deeper in trouble or not.

"Y-yes, ma'am," Cosette answered. She wanted to ask why she hadn't told Filch about her, but didn't want to risk possibly reminding the teacher and deciding to go back out and find him.

She decided that the best course of action was to try and be as polite as possible. Maybe that way, she could avoid any further punishment, or at least those thumbscrews. She noticed that Professor Grimsdyke smiled slightly; it was a very warm smile, not at all like the reproachful grimace from before. She looked at Cosette, looking her over slightly.

"It is quite an… interesting read," she nodded. "Where have you heard of the book?"

"A copy intrigued me at Flourish and Blotts before the school year," Cosette said, glad the conversation seemed to be so pleasant, though she still had a sharp nagging feeling in the back of her head about her punishment.

The teacher simply rolled her eyes.

"That will be the abridged version, that store is far too commercialized to carry such fascinating titles in their entirety. My copy cost me a small fortune at a charming store called Borgin and Burkes."

"It does seem quite larger than the one I saw…"

"You like to read I assume?"

"Yes, very much," Cosette said starting to feel somewhat better.

"What is it that you read?"

"Well, I was rather absorbed in my spellbooks since I first got them, before then, I very much liked a series of story books called The Lord of the Rings. It's muggle literature, I'm not sure if you heard of it…"

"Have you read The Hobbit as well?"

Cosette's mood was brightening by the second with this teacher.

"Yes, three times. I'm not allowed a lot of books at home, so generally I just read what I have over and over again."

"What by Tolkien have you read?"

"Just that; The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings…"

"Shame, people should do what they love, and you love to read you say?"

"Yes ma'am…"

"So few children these days enjoy reading…" Grimsdyke spoke whimsically. "And you like Tolkien?"

"Yes…"

She smiled richly and stood up, walking over to one of her many bookshelves.

"You are fortunate I am such a bibliophile…" she said absentmindedly scanning the higher shelves.

She pulled a book off the shelf and walked back over to Cosette, handing it to her. It was a book bound in white leather, with gold inlaid that read: _'The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.' _Cosette noted she had very feminine hands wrapped in velvet sleeves and adorned with fine rings with gems.

"I have three copies just like that, so you can keep that one," she shrugged nonchalantly as she returned to her work.

Cosette was speechless, no one had ever given her a gift before in her entire life except Hagrid, and what's more there wasn't even any occasion. Yet, this person had just met her and had given her something that only her brother would truly know how much she would love it. Her thoughts turned into ones of anger as she thought of her brother.

"Yes, spell structure is a fascinating subject, and LeMerchand's book covers much more than just that. It is a full and complete library of all of his knowledge compiled into one book, and I honestly think it is better you wait to read it; it is far above your skill level. Until then, read what you enjoy. Do you have any interest in spell structure?"

Cosette was intrigued by the sound of it, but was not entirely sure what it was.

"I'm not sure what it is, but it sounds fascinating."

"Spell Structure is difficult to define… the best, most simplified, and two-dimensional definition is that it is the science of the supernatural. The means in which great wizards and witches alike can create, structure, and craft a spell that is then published in your school books. Some of the most standardized spells are centuries old, meaning younger than the world itself. They were invented by someone. It is an extremely complicated process and one must familiarize themselves with the invisible laws of magic to do it. There are important factors to note, that make one spell harder to cast than another, these factors are important to note, and it is important to know why they exist in the structure of the spell itself. In the core of spell structure however are the layers of a spell, a conceptual language such as Arabic can give a spell its adaptable purpose, it can acclimatize to accommodate the intentions stated by the spellcaster based on the given environment of potential limitations. However, a more literal language such as Latin, states the definite purpose of a spell. This is why most are taught the Latin translation of a spell; it is the literal definition of the spell's purpose and therefore the one that makes the spellcaster's intent most clear when they cast the spell. However, in the structure of a spell you find the word or phrase must translate into seven different languages, and these translations must fit together in a puzzle like fashion to make it work."

Cosette sat almost hypnotized by her speech; there were so many questions she wished to ask her—so many things that fascinated her.

"If everyone only knows the Latin definition of a spell, how is it that they are able to cast it if spell structure demands that there must be so many other translations?"

Professor Grimsdyke gave a pleased sort of smile.

"First of all, most people don't even know the Latin definition of a spell, they just know what phrase they are supposed to use to cast a given spell. Ask them to translate that word or phrase to English? You better be talking to Dumbledore or you won't get an answer. Secondly, the reason they don't need all the definitions is because they are given a ready standardized Latin phrase. Meaning that it has already been nitpicked by spell architects to fit together the right way with the other six languages. So while you don't know what the phrase or word means, you've still said something that means something and everything."

Cosette was hanging on every word the teacher spoke at this point, soaking it up like a sponge. She wanted to try that, creating her own spells sounded very appealing. It made sense, making a spell would be a lot harder than just spouting out some Latin words and waving your wand around.

"Are you intrigued by the subject I teach here?"

"Yes…" Cosette said, wondering where she could sign up for her class.

"Maybe I'll see you in your third year. Until then, you should study the languages you'll need to know."

"What languages would that be?" Cosette said, eager to go to the library and look for books on the subject.

"Latin, Ancient Runes, Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, Ancient Egyptian, and Ancient Babylonian are the most necessary to Spell Structure. Though you can use any language you want really, as long as if fits right with these languages in the puzzle like fashion I mentioned. These seven languages are frequently referred to as the cardinal tongues."

Cosette made a mental note of all these languages. The teacher stood up a second time. She walked over to another one of her bookshelves pulling a small book of the shelf. She walked back over and handed the book to Cosette. This book was bound in a silk like material and had large bronze letters on the front that were heavily tarnished reading: _'Basic Latin'_. She had been given a second book by this teacher, who was quickly becoming her favorite teacher.

"Thank you…" Cosette said feeling incredibly happy.

The teacher shrugged at Cosette as she returned to her work.

"I think we have wasted quite enough of each other's time. I have work from my students to grade and you have mischief to attend to in your past curfew hours. So off you go, you budding little bibliophile."

Cosette stood up, grinning ear to ear, not believing her luck in getting to meet such an amazing teacher. Though she was a bit sad with the knowledge she would not be able to take her subject until third year.

"Is it possible I could visit with you again?" Cosette asked, feeling like she shouldn't have.

To her surprise however the teacher simply looked up at her with a surprised expression.

"Yes, I think that would be fine, though I would prefer you to visit over tea rather than when I have work to be graded and _before_ curfew."

Nothing could describe how happy Cosette was to have met that teacher, sure nothing could spoil her mood, and after picking up her almost forgotten potions book, she began walking with her nose trapped in her new copy of Basic Latin. When she removed her attention from the book she realized she had wandered into some part of the castle somewhat foreign to her.

It was rather dank and dirty, with many statues that were covered in cobwebs and dust. All the statues appeared to be looking straight at her. It was rather unnerving and it was with a slight jolt of panic that she realized she was in the forbidden corridor on the third floor. Just then, she heard a high pitched screaming sound coming from a door midway down the hall. She was not at all inclined to go near it and felt it best to simply leave. She turned and began walking briskly away when the door the screaming came from burst open and four students, who she all immediately recognized, burst out.

There, running down the hall like their backsides were on fire, were four Gryffindor students, one of them including her twin. It was shock that had cemented her to the floor for a second as they ran right past her, as if they didn't even know she was there, and were too terrified to stop. Once she got over her surprise, Cosette went running after them, half worried and half afraid that Filch would hear them and get them all in trouble.

She caught up to them with some difficulty and noted the familiar faces of Ron Weasley, Longbottom and that bushy haired girl who always was the first to raise her hand in class. She couldn't for the life of her remember her name; Granger-something. Lastly, there was her brother. She hurriedly made it to Harry's side.

"What's going on?" she asked, sounding worried, her earlier anger being pushed aside at the thought of him being in harm.

"What are they thinking keeping something like _that_ in the castle?" Harry gushed out hurriedly.

"What?" Cosette asked impatiently.

"That three-headed dog!"

Cosette stopped running and threw a look behind her curiously.

"Really?"

Here Harry stopped running, seeing his sister pause. Quickly he ran back to her and began tugging at her arm.

"Come on!" he called, pulling her into a run.

Cosette, still clutching her new books, was half dragged up the crooked, moving staircases by her twin. She wasn't sure where they were going, but could hardly get even a syllable out. By the time they did stop, Cosette was terribly out of breath.

Finally, wanting answers, Cosette looked over to her brother.

"What exactly was all that about?"

Harry, who was also trying to catch his breath, finally looked at his sister.

"What they have in the third floor corridor—why students aren't allowed there. It's a giant three-headed dog!"

Cosette blinked.

"Three heads? As in Greek mythology?" Cosette asked, remembering the story about the Cerberus dog guarding the gate to Hades. But they were in Hogwarts, which was located in Scotland, not the gateway to Hades—right?

"Why in the world is there a Cerberus dog at Hogwarts?" Cosette continued, then quickly added, "And why the heck were you wandering about after curfew looking for it? Isn't it enough that you got rewarded for nearly killing yourself? Did you think breaking _another_ rule would earn you extra credits?" she remarked spitefully.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"I could ask you the same question," Harry shot back. "You're also out after curfew."

"I—I just lost track of time in the library," Cosette lied easily, looking down at her books.

"And just so you know, we didn't purposely go wandering around the third floor corridor, we were just trying to hide from Filch," Harry said.

"What are you even doing about then?" she asked.

Harry suddenly looked guilty and rather embarrassed.

"Well you see, Malfoy said something about a Wizard's Duel in the Trophy room…" Harry muttered.

"But the little snot set us up!" Ron added, his eyes taking on a bright flame. "He's such a butt!"

Malfoy had tricked them? Suddenly, it dawned on Cosette.

"_You? _You're the moron he was bragging about tricking into getting caught by Filch?"

Harry looked slighted.

"Hey! I'm no moron!"

"Yeah, Malfoy tricked us. That's all!" Ron added, and then looked suspicious. "And you're just as guilty!"

Cosette looked suddenly taken aback.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"You're a Slytherin! You just admitted to the fact that you knew he was setting Harry up, and you didn't even warn him, your own brother!"

Cosette's face flushed with anger.

"I didn't know who he was talking about," she growled. "I only overheard as I was leaving the common room."

"Right," Ron said. "Like we should believe you. Harry told me you guys had an argument. You're just jealous he got on the Quidditch team. I wouldn't be surprised if you were hoping we'd get caught! Laughing right with Malfoy behind our backs!"

"That's not true!"

Cosette looked over at Harry, hoping that he didn't believe what his friend was saying.

Instead, Cosette saw a surprised, pained look come over his face.

"Cosette… how could you?"

"It's not—I didn't know!" she pleaded.

"All you Slytherins… Harry said you weren't like them, but now I'm not so sure," Ron looked almost let down, as if he had truly at one point thought she was an okay person.

Cosette glared. If he wanted to play the house card, fine, she'd sink to that level.

"Gryffindors… you think you're all so noble and better than everyone else. So good that you are above the rules," she sniffed, grasping her books tightly.

"At least we're not lying, backstabbing snakes!"

"All of you, quiet down!"

The voice belonged to the other girl, and Cosette was half surprised that the proper, know-it-all was one of the curfew -breakers. She didn't look the type. She had completely forgotten her presence and Longbottom's, who was staring at the three of them with wide, disbelieved eyes. The girl looked at Harry, Ron and Cosette with a scowl.

"This isn't the place to have pointless arguments. The truth is, none of us should be out of bed, and what we should be doing is getting back into our common rooms. Besides, didn't you see what that thing was standing on?" she asked.

"Standing on?" Ron asked disbelievingly. "I wasn't looking at its feet! I was too busy staring at its heads, or maybe you didn't notice—there're three!"

"It's obviously guarding something," she continued, as if ignoring Ron. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed before any of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed, or worse, _expelled. _Come on, Neville."

With that, the bushy-headed Gryffindor turned around and marched over to the large Fat Lady portrait that Cosette only then realized was the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

Neville wasted no time in following her.

Ron and Harry exchanged a look before shrugging and following behind her. Ron ignored her presence, and when Cosette made to say something to her brother, Harry shot her a betrayed, angry glare. Cosette immediately wilted, feeling hurt as she watched her brother turn and enter the portrait-hole.

The portrait closed behind them and Cosette was left to stand there alone. Feeling like the entire world had just crashed down on her, Cosette stared, glassy-eyed at the Fat Lady, who seemed to sneer down at her.

"Shouldn't you be in your own common room, girl?" she asked with a raise of a brow.

Cosette sniffed and clutched her books tighter, feeling her throat constrict with the familiar sensation of oncoming tears. Then she turned and ran down the corridor, tears silently falling down her face.

The Fat Lady looked somewhat surprised and shocked by this, seeming to be somewhat sorry for Cosette who she did not realize was so hurt at the moment. She probably would have made to comfort Cosette, if she had been forty years younger and able bodied, or at least not limited to run after her along the walls.

Cosette kept running all the way down to her dungeon and into her common room which was completely empty. She was very glad about this, because she didn't want to go up to her dorm room just yet and risk waking her roommates. She went into a small corner and cried quietly instead. All the joy from meeting Professor Grimsdyke and being given the new books was gone.

After about an hour, she managed to get herself together and was ready to go up to her dorm room where her roommates no doubt lay sleeping.

She walked up the stairs and into her dormitory. She grabbed her pajamas and quickly changed in the bathroom, adding her new books to the pile she needed to read. She then climbed into bed and quietly cried herself to sleep as she had been doing almost every night.


	13. Old Hollow's Eve

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 13<p>

Old Hollows Eve

Harry's night was interesting, if anything. As planned, he snuck out to meet Malfoy, but Hermione tried to stop him. Ignoring the Gryffindor, he and Ron pushed passed and made their way out of Gryffindor Tower to find that Neville was outside. He had apparently forgotten the password and had been trapped there the whole night. It mattered little, since the Fat Lady was absent from her portrait, and after Hermione realized this, and Neville, having been trapped outside the whole time, they all proceeded awkwardly to the trophy room, half their party not even wanting to go, but annoyingly persisting anyway. The dark corridors of the castle filled Harry with a feeling of mild foreboding. He also had the irksome feeling that the suits of armor that aligned the wall were watching him. One of the portraits of what must have been a hag shot him a venomous glare that seemed to be a potent gaze of disapproval, abhorrence, and something rather perverse that Harry couldn't identify, but made his hair stand on end.

When they arrived at the trophy room they found it empty, the glistening trophies, cups, and shields shining brightly from the walls. All was quiet, save the quiet metallic clicking of some of the trophies, whose figurines were magicked to move around. Hermione bit her bottom lip and stared at her shoes, evidently hoping that as long as she didn't say anything, they would leave quickly.

"Malfoy's late…" Ron noted nonchalantly. "He probably chickened out…"

"All the more reason to get back to the common room!" Hermione piped in, finding her breath.

Neville gave a slight whimper of agreement.

Harry simply shook his head, determined to meet Malfoy if he did come. He wasn't going to chicken out, no matter how much trouble he could end up in, he was determined to see the look on Malfoy's face when he beat him.

Just then there was a sound from the door opposite them. Malfoy had come, just a few minutes late, but he had come.

"Search this room well my sweet, I was tipped off that students would be here…" came the loathsome voice of Argus Filch as the door creaked open.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, it wasn't Malfoy, it was Filch. The four of them were frozen in place. It wasn't until Neville lost his nerve and backpedaled into a large medieval suit of armor, rattling it terribly, that they were all brought rudely out of there trance.

"Run for it!" Ron yelped out as they heard Filch's angry bellow and Neville toppled over.

The three standing Gryffindors stumbled over Neville in an attempt to get away, Hermione staying behind only long enough to help Neville up and run with him.

They ran to the end of the corridor and turned into a narrow, spiral staircase to their left. They descended the staircase as quickly as they could, their footsteps echoing loudly giving their path away to Filch whom they heard charging after them from the top of the steps.

"This way!" Harry yelled pelting through the first door on the first landing they came to.

They exited into a large cavernous corridor that Harry was not too familiar with. Deciding it would be best to head in the general direction of Gryffindor tower in places they were not familiar with, Harry made a quick right and pelted up the hallway.

They made a quick left turn as they heard Filch exit the staircase and Harry beckoned the group through a small door to their right. They all piled in and found themselves in a narrow passage as they closed the door, listening fearfully for Filch's footsteps.

They heard Filch's panting before they heard his footsteps.

"Those… damn… kids…" they heard Filch say in between heavy breaths. "I need… some more... of that… Draught of Vivacity… from Professor… Snape…" he said as he walked slowly by the door they were hiding behind.

Ron sighed in relief as he heard Filch walk by.

"Where do you think this passage way leads?" Ron asked after the long pause.

"Who cares? We should just get back to the Gryffindor common room," Hermione said shrilly, taking quick advantage of the broken silence.

Harry ignored her, wondering the same thing as Ron. He slowly began to walk down the passage way.

"Let's go and see."

"No, let's not. Let's get back to the common room before we get into any more trouble!" Hermione said insistently, Neville gave another nod of agreement.

"Oh, shut up!" said Ron as he walked after Harry.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked back at the door behind her, apparently unsure of what to do.

Neville seemed to prefer to follow Harry and Ron than stand there waiting to be caught like Hermione, so he too made to follow Harry.

So again the group walked awkwardly a few short steps, with half the group annoyingly persisting to following Harry and Ron. The passageway ended abruptly and they exited onto a marble balcony with several round tables situated on it. They looked out over the edge of the balcony and to their awe they saw stars shining brightly before them. Over the edge of the balcony, close enough to touch, were hundreds and hundreds of dazzling stars, moons, planets, and other wonders of the galaxy. Harry reached out to grab one of the stars, much to the annoyance of Hermione. It felt like a fast melting ice cube in his hand. He tried to pull it from its suspension in the blue void it sat in, but found that it simply would not budge.

"Where do you think we are?" Ron asked once more.

Harry was puzzling over the same thing. The very existence of this room should mean that he would never need to take any form of an astronomy lesson. Then it hit him and he understood where they were.

"I think that we're in the Great Hall," he said. "Just this time we're above the bewitched sky rather than below."

This answer seemed to make sense. The room was of great breadth, great enough to be the Great Hall. Several other balconies similar to the one they stood on dotted the walls around them and the walls they all shared curved upwards to form a very cathedral like ceiling with a lake of stars stirring lazily below it.

Ron was staring out at the lake of stars, a look of wonderment in his eyes.

"We should go!" Hermione's interjected once more, but she found herself being cut short by none other than Peeves, the poltergeist of the school.

"Shoot it's Peeves!" Ron uttered.

"What do we have here?" Peeves said with a broad grin on his face. "Students out of bed?"

"Peeves can you be quiet?"

"Hmm, should report students breaking the rules, yes I should," Peeves mused with an expression of mock virtue.

"Please Peeves, shush," Harry said desperately.

"I think I'll go find Filch, he'll be wanting to see you," Peeves said gliding very slowly towards the exit.

Neville made to grab Peeve's ankle to prevent him from leaving but this was very unsuccessful and turned out to be the wrong move.

"_Students out of bed! Students out of bed in the Upper Great Hall!"_ Peeves bellowed, his voice echoing loudly through the large chamber and surrounding hallways.

"Run for it!" Harry yelled as he ran to the door, Peeves chasing after the group.

They piled out of the door they entered previously into the wide corridor where Peeves continued to yell as they took off down the corridor. They went into a vacant classroom a few doors down on the opposite side of the hallway, closing the door behind them. It was then they heard Filch's distinctive panting.

"Where did they go Peeves?"

"Where did who go?"

"Don't toy with me Peeves, you were practically trying to wake the entire castle up with your tales about students out of bed."

"Students? I think you're going senile!" Peeves said before cackling madly and skipping off.

"Let's go, Filch is bound to check the entire area," Harry said indicating a second door to the classroom they were in.

The door was ajar and through it they could see it led to another corridor.

"Yeah," Ron whispered back.

They began to walk briskly towards the door when they heard the not so unfamiliar sound of Neville clumsily tripping over a waste bin. The bronze bin made a huge echoing noise, instantly giving away their position.

"Run!" Ron yelled as they pelted one by one out of the door, shortly followed by a fumbling Neville who closed the door behind him just as Filch opened the opposite door.

Filch quickly made to follow them. They pelted down the hallway as fast as they could move, Filch tailing them. They continued to run, finding themselves in a corridor they were certainly not familiar with. It was then that they came to a large oak door at the very end of the hallway; no other doors could be seen. The entire group aimed themselves at this door, which to their horror, they found to be locked.

"We're screwed!" Ron panicked looking nervously back down the corridor.

"Oh, move over!" Hermione eagerly pushed Ron out of the way and pulled out her wand.

"_Alohamora!"_

The tip of her wand glowed and they soon heard the satisfying sound of the lock clicking open.

They quickly piled inside the room. Listening quietly for Filch's panting and footsteps, they were relieved to hear them leave the door they hid behind unchecked.

"Filch is gone," Harry whispered.

"Good thing he thinks this door is locked, I guess."

"It was locked," Hermione said. "For good reason," she finished, staring terrified up at the three heads of an enormous beast of a dog.

A low growl escaped the jaws of the beast, Hermione slowly trying to back pedal towards the door, Neville seemed frozen in place.

Harry and Ron found themselves screaming as they made their way to open the door. This screaming seemed to make Neville snap out of it as he too ran to the door, shortly followed by Hermione, who in turn was followed by the charging beast. They exited the door slamming it shut and locking it. They continued to run down the hallway, running into one of the last people Harry expected to run into; Cosette.

The next day brought with it the promise of the inevitable weekend. Cosette was beyond miserable. She hated everything about Hogwarts apart from the academics. Not only had it created a rift between her and her brother, but everyone was horrible to her. No one ever acknowledged her as who she was. She was simply her brother's shadow, and people hardly seemed to even notice that. No one seemed to realize that they were siblings because they looked nothing like each other apart from their eyes. Filch had even mistook her for a Weasley. On top of everything, she was horribly ugly, stupid, bland and just plain unattractive and the people of the school did nothing but remind her of these facts.

At breakfast the next morning, everyone was chatting while Cosette resumed her usual position at the end of the table, trying her best to look as small and insignificant as possible. Her plate was completely bare; she had not eaten a single thing. She was so wrapped up in her self-imposed misery, that she didn't even notice when the owls came. It wasn't like she was expecting anyone to send her anything anyway, even Hagrid—who she admitted some fondness over—chose to contact both the twins through Harry. And so when she heard the screeching, she didn't even bother looking up from her plate. It wasn't until she heard the oohs-and-ahs did her curiosity pique. She looked up with a frown to find the source, and wasn't at all surprised to hear the sounds were coming from the Gryffindor table, or more precisely, the group of students surrounding her twin brother.

Tilting her head to see what the fuss was over, Cosette stood up from her seat, trying to look over the kids' shoulders to what they were marveling over.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Did someone really send him that? It looks like a broom!"

"It has to be a broom, look at its shape!"

Furrowing her brows, Cosette tried to make out what everyone was talking about. What had someone sent her brother? And why? Not too long after, one of the groupies parted, and the slight gap gave her sight to a long, slender package. It was painfully obvious that the speculation about it being a broom was true, and the elegant wrapping was proof that it was a gift of high quality. What did her brother do to deserve a gift? He already nearly killed himself for "Wetbottom's" toy. She just didn't understand; why was her brother so special? He had a nicely shaped cut on his forward that seemed to label him as a god. She wasn't sure what she could do. Her brother had grown distant from her and she could only imagine how he must be feeling after last night. The thought was enough to make her cry and she slowly and silently left the Great Hall. After wandering the halls aimlessly, she headed toward her first class a little early to read her Latin book. At least she didn't have to worry about him showing it off during her flying lesson, because Harry would be starting practice with the Gryffindor team, while all the other first years still had to complete the class with Hooch.

Harry noticed when Cosette left the Great Hall but his attention was soon brought back to his brand new broom sitting on his breakfast. He was about to open it when the note that was attached caught his attention. It said not to open the broom at the table and to go to the field at seven for his first lesson that night, signed by professor McGonagall. He couldn't understand why he was told not to open it at the table when its contents were so obvious. Ron's eyes widened at the sight of Harry's package.

"Is that a broomstick?"

Harry looked around noting that many people were giving him curious looks, evidently wondering the same thing. He then lowered his voice to make sure only Ron heard him.

"The note says it's a Nimbus Two-thousand, but not to open it here."

Ron's face brightened at Harry's words, and he stared down at the wrapped broom as if it were a valuable treasure.

"A Nimbus Two-thousand!" Ron gasped loudly.

Several people turned their heads in their direction with widened eyes, and the clamor grew louder. Harry groaned as many more people began crowding around him. Ron seemed to look suddenly guilty, and gave Harry a pleading look. Then, in a much quieter voice, he spoke again.

"Why don't we go back to the common room and you can open it there?"

Harry thought this was a great idea, and with a feverish nod, the two boys were off.

They exited the Great Hall, Harry's package in hand and swept through the corridors and up several flights of stairs. On one particular flight of stairs they ran into none other than Draco Malfoy, who was, as usual, accompanied with his usual two bodyguards.

"Well well…" Malfoy mused, a smug look on his face as he surveyed Harry and Ron.

His expression sharpened quite suddenly when his eyes fell on the package in Harry's hands.

"That's a broomstick!" he said simply. "You're in for it now Potter, first year students aren't allowed broomsticks," he continued, his expression returning to its usual smug grin.

Just then, Professor Flitwick clambered up the stairs to the group of boys.

"Is something wrong?" Flitwick squeaked.

"Harry has a broomstick, Professor!" Malfoy chortled joyfully.

"Yes, yes, I know, Professor McGonagall has told me all about the special arrangements."

No words could describe the look of horror spreading across Malfoy's face.

"But first years aren't allowed a broomstick!" Malfoy protested.

"Well yes, but special arrangements have been made in light of…"

"In light of the fact that he's the famous Harry Potter," Malfoy finished spitefully for Flitwick.

"Well yes… I mean no! That is to say I mean…" Flitwick flustered before giving a short sigh. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't finish my sentences for me, young man. Be off with all of you, I dare say you will have classes soon."

Harry could not stop grinning, the image of Malfoy's horrified expression burned into his retinas. He was in very high spirits.

When they arrived inside the common room, they couldn't run fast enough to Harry's bed. Quickly, Harry began tearing at the wrapping as Ron watched on with impatience. Finally, the paper was removed, and there against his bedspread was a finely polished, well finished broomstick made from what looked like mahogany with the words _'Nimbus 2000'_ gleaming with gold letters on the handle. Even for Harry, who's only experience with brooms was the first year starting ones, could tell that this broom was wonderful. He couldn't wait to show it off to Oliver Wood, who he had to meet with at seven that night to begin his training.

Cosette had returned to her common room after breakfast to get ready for class, and by third period, everyone in the school was talking about how her brother had gotten this fancy broomstick. She couldn't help but feel crestfallen by all the talk, for once again she was put in a place where she seemed to be the only one to recognize that her brother got so severely rewarded for breaking the rules and nearly killing himself. It was also rather annoying. Cosette was never one for sports, but it was all anyone was talking about now with Harry's new broomstick. Personally, she was much more interested in her Tranfigurations and Potions class, and since her next class was Potions, Cosette grabbed her bag with her notes, quill and Potions book and headed to the classroom early. This way, she could get in some last minute studying, which would hopefully improve her brewing ability.

Cosette had studied hard since that fateful first day in Potions class, but it didn't seem to mark any sign of improvement. Even within their class the day after her initial failure in the subject, she had studied hard and tried to produce the chills potion—the potion they were assigned that day—and thought she had made it successful. She had added the correct ingredients at the proper time, and when she had finished it, it was the right consistency and _mostly_ the same color as what her book told her, yet Professor Snape had once again ignored her potion, which let her know once again she failed.

Since then, she had made sure to study her lessons a day in advance, hoping that she would get them right by the time they would do them in class. It had gotten to the point where Cosette began mentally calling the necessary steps for the potions just before the professor actually stated them in the lecture he was giving. Yet, no matter how good her potion seemed to get, Professor Snape still ignored her. The truth was, Professor Snape terrified her. He was always so cold and nasty looking, and his eyes always held this iciness in them that made her avoid looking straight in them. He was so scary to be around, for his very presence seemed to invoke terror in all the students. He was so terribly mean to the students, and she was left always feeling inadequate to the point where she almost burst into tears. His comments were vicious and unrelenting, and his sneer was enough to send her into a shivering fit whenever he approached. He didn't even need to have those reactions targeted at her to make her tremble in fear. She just wanted to make sure she was never the target, that she could somehow gain his respect, like Malfoy seemed to. Yet, he still shafted her with his disregarding—and she didn't know if that was any better than his sharp, biting insults.

This class was no different. As her Head of House drawled on about Nirnroot and Bergamot seeds, Cosette mentally made a note that the seeds had to be boiled at exactly the right temperature or else they wouldn't melt properly and become useless in the potion.

"… but make sure your concoction does not exceed a temperature of 60 degrees Celsius, or your potion will lose all potency…not that I expect any of you to remember this."

Cosette gave a small smile to herself, and when they started brewing, made sure to give special attention to every detail. She had finished what she thought was the perfect potion. Her brew was supposed to be a pale green and very liquidy, and giving her potion on last stir, she noted that it was both of these things, while her neighbor's potion was frothing madly. However, like the days before, the Potions' teacher ignored her, and Cosette kicked herself for her own inadequacy. She obviously did something wrong again, and she didn't know what. Maybe if she went to the library later to read up on Nirnroots and Bergamot seeds and how they react to each other she can do better, or maybe she could find a book on potions ingredients as a whole and study from it.

Class finished and Cosette sighed, bottling her potion and placed it on his desk. Her shoulders sagged as she left. Since her argument the previous day, her brother wouldn't even look at her, and she couldn't help but feel betrayed by that as well. Why had he believed some kid he had just met over her? They had always been together since the very beginning, so why wasn't he here now when she needed him the most? The day passed on slowly, as every class she had with her brother felt like a heavy burden on her. She was mad at him, but it didn't mean that she wasn't hurt by his quick dismissal of her, either. He seemed not affected at all, as he merrily chatted away with all his new friends as if nothing was wrong, while she stood in the background alone and ignored by everyone.

By the time classes were over, Cosette couldn't be happier, simply because she couldn't stand listening to anymore people talking about Harry's new broom. Like she planned, Cosette made her way to the library, which she had quickly acclimated herself to. Browsing the shelves, Cosette found a heavy book on potion ingredients and sat down at a bare table in the furthest corner she could find. It was partially hidden from view and right next to the "Restricted Section." She didn't know what that was all about, for she couldn't fathom how the books could be dangerous—after all, no harm every came from reading books, right? Recalling the ominous tome and the eerie chill she got when she touched LeMarchand's book, and Professor Grimsdyke's words, Cosette rethought this point, but quickly shrugged and resumed her studying, stumbling over every other word her eleven year old mind couldn't process.

Harry meanwhile, gave little, if any thought of his argument with his sister. After classes were all over he returned to his dormitory to marvel at his broom. He could not imagine a broom with more care put into its build. It seemed perfect in every way, from the trim of the bristles to the polish of the handles.

At seven o'clock, as scheduled, Harry met Oliver Wood out on the pitch, Nimbus Two-thousand held firm in hand. It was slightly chilly and the sky warned of rain. Wood was late. When he finally came out, he was carrying a large wooden chest that was sealed with bronze locks.

"Right then," Wood said simply. "We best get this over with…"

"Okay," Harry said feelingly suddenly nervous, unsure if it would matter if he showed the broom to Wood.

"Right then, you said you don't know the rules to Quidditch?" Wood asked simply as he placed the chest down, briefly noting Harry's high end broomstick.

"Right…" Harry said, feeling awkward.

"Well, it's a simple enough game once you know the rules," Wood said. "Basically, each team has seven players; three Chasers handle a ball known as the quaffle and try to throw it through one of the three hoops belonging to the opposing team to score. Two balls called bludgers are magicked to zip around hazardously and two Beaters on each team need to knock them towards opposing players in attempt to knock them off their broom and thus disqualify them from the game by default of injury, thus weakening the opposing teams resolve." He looked at Harry's rather glazed expression. "Are you following so far?"

"Yes..." Harry lied.

Wood sighed before continuing.

"There is also one keeper on each team, their job is to protect the hoops from the chasers and prevent them from scoring. Free shots may be awarded at the digression of the referee given poor sportsmanship behavior during the game. There is set regulations to follow in larger leagues, but school teams like ours don't follow those rules loyally. " Wood paused once more. "McGonagall wants you to play the last of the seven positions, a Seeker, which is a role that can be either pivotal or useless, that all depends on the teams given strategy and position in the game. The Seeker's job in the game is to catch a very small ball that moves at lightning fast speed. If the Seeker catches it, his or her team is awarded an extra one-hundred and fifty points."

"Well that's a good thing isn't it?" Harry inquired.

"That all depends, because the game also ends when the snitch is caught. So if we are down one-hundred and sixty points and you catch the snitch then we end the game but we also lose one-hundred and sixty to one-hundred and fifty."

"But it's such a mass of points; surely any seeker that can catch the snitch quickly enough can win the game for his team."

"Aye, but that's largely a strategy of luck, the snitch moves extremely fast and is very difficult to spot, finding it is the first step and it isn't an easy one. So a team that relies on their seeker like that is choosing a very poor strategy."

"What strategy do you most encourage?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well as a standard strategy, I try to eliminate what is called to point deficit in. That's the initial number of points needed to win even if the opposing team catches the snitch. When the game begins, both teams have the deficit and it isn't until one team is leading by one-hundred and sixty points that the given team loses it. By eliminating the point deficit and maintaining it, we can win no matter who catches the snitch. All the same, this is a shaky strategy because it's hard to simply rely on having such a steep lead in the game, but as a standard strategy to run the team by, it works because the Keeper and the Chasers are pushed the hardest and they are the most pivotal members of the team."

"So what's a less standard strategy you would use?"

"Depends on who we were playing against," Wood said simply. "I think we wasted quite enough time explaining the ins and outs, let me see your flying skills."

Harry felt suddenly nervous. He had only ever had one flying lesson, and the thought of Wood, who was a school trained professional, watching him was very unsettling. He hesitantly nodded his head and mounted his broom. Not sure exactly what he was supposed to show the captain, Harry kicked off the ground. The minute his feet left the ground, he rose into the air. He decided the best way to go about this was to pretend Wood wasn't watching him with a securitizing glance. Taking a deep breath, he picked up speed. He didn't know exactly what he had to accomplish in order to gain Wood's approval, but decided that a simple flying pattern would do. He pushed the tip of his broom and could feel more and more the difference between the school broom and his new Nimbus Two-thousand. Where the school broom was rather shaky and stiff, the Nimbus was rather smooth. Turning was made much easier and cleaner, and he did a series of sharp turns once he got a good feel of the broom. He didn't want to risk another nose dive like he did on his first lesson, but tried a rather tentative loop de loop. The blood had rushed to his head during the flip and the wind made his ears cold, but he managed to pull it off rather flawlessly.

After a few minutes, Wood had called to him and Harry was called back into reality. The truth was, he had completely forgotten he was being watched, and had just started getting into his new broom. He landed a bit too roughly, but didn't fall over. Hesitantly he looked up at Wood to see his reaction. To his surprise, Wood looked generally impressed.

"Well, it looks like there was some truth to Professor McGonagall's words after all," Wood said with a small smile. "And with some training, you can be shaped into a fine player."

Harry smiled.

"Welcome to the team, Mr. Potter," Wood smiled, then kicked gently at the large chest at their feet. It opened magically and inside were strapped a multitude of balls, all different shapes, sizes and colors, two of which were held down by chains, and angrily fighting to be freed.

"Now to show you the actual game…"

The weather was hastily changing. Soon, the mildly humid air gave way to the bitter chill of autumn. The rain changed from a warm drizzle to an icy sheet. Harry's nights were filled with practice. Cosette's time was mainly filled with studying. She had made her visits to the boathouse a nightly practice, and had hid herself there to study. However, no matter how much she tried, she barely made progress on Flamel's Alchemy book and she quickly learned that a dictionary was now a necessary companion for her study regiment. Even with her rigorous reading in both Potions and Transfigurations, she couldn't seem to see passed the most basic of alchemical theories. She could only seem to grasp the initial concept of what was being created. She figured it shouldn't be so surprising, seeing as she was only in her first year, but it did frustrate her.

Since she hadn't any friends, and the kids at Hogwarts either ignored her or picked on her, she kept to herself and really had nothing better to do then study. She had learned that her initial thought that all the Slytherin girls were stuck and nasty was wrong, as there was a rather startling percentage that were just as abused as she was.

Millicent Bulstrode was one of these cases. The girl was heavy and square jawed and had the most horrible set of teeth Cosette had ever seen, but she was quiet and shied away from attention. The other girls picked on her for being so overweight, and if Cosette was more social, she could see herself befriending such a girl. She shared her table during Potions class –as no one else wanted to sit next to either of them— and had more than once seen the timid Slytherin girl tear up over the abuse she received.

No, there were quite a few "stray snakes" that wandered about the den of Slytherin house, aimlessly stalking about with no friends. These were the worst. As a group, the Slytherins were hated, but they stuck together with their friends. The strays flailed about, being attacked at all sides; from their own and from the discrimination of the other houses. The loner Slytherins just weren't strong enough to band together and the lonely single snakes suffered, wandering around with no direction.

The end of October was quickly approaching, and with it, the promise of Hollow's Eve. Harry was relieved to learn that classes were canceled that day because of the holiday, and spent his first official holiday sleeping in. He woke up to discover he had only a few minutes left until the end of breakfast. He quickly dressed and all but ran down to the Great Hall, shirt wrinkled and untucked. He arrived to find Ron eagerly stuffing his face with flapjacks that were covered in maple syrup and whipped cream. The tables were decorated for the holiday and pumpkins were floating next to the candles. Bats that looked very much alive chirped and fluttered over their heads joyously.

Harry didn't even raise his eyes to see if his sister had joined breakfast, as was his habit now. Since their fight, he and his sister avoided each other. Cosette seemed to glare at him from time to time, and he couldn't quite get over it. Though he only just met Ron, his words had a truth to them, and he felt more inclined to believe him. His sister was acting bratty and she had been treating him coldly ever since they arrived at Hogwarts. He didn't know why she was acting so cruel, or why she was being so closed off to him, but her behavior stung him, and he felt that maybe if he just stayed away from her and gave her space, she'd get over it. Had her housemates affected her as everyone said? He knew the Slytherins were bad, and it was the only plausible reason as to why their relationship soured so fast. If only she hadn't been sorted into that house…

When Harry sat next to Ron, his face brightened.

"No classes today!" Ron smiled.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. He was happy for that, even if they had just started learning actual spells in Charms class. The latest one they learned everyone was having exceeding trouble with, all except Hermione of course, who kept on correcting Ron on the proper way to pronounce '_Wingardium Leviosa,'_ the spell for levitating objects. Ron had been glaring sourly at her ever since then.

"Wanna finish breakfast in the upper balcony?" Harry asked.

The red head thought for a second before agreeing. Both gathered their plates—Ron piling more and more pancakes and toast. Hastily they left with their plates and followed the stairway that led them to the upper deck. It was much quieter and less cramped up on the balcony, and soon they were chatting away merrily while eating their fattening, sweet encrusted breakfast. However, neither had noticed a student follow them up.

Standing in front of the door way was a very stern looking Hermione, who glared at the two boys in a disapproving manner.

"This area is forbidden for students, I hope you know," she remarked tightly.

Ron let out an aggravated sigh.

"Oh no, not you again," he grumbled, giving her an aggrieved look.

Hermione bristled somewhat, looking mildly offended.

"You're not supposed to be here," she continued, trying to hide how much his offhanded comment stung her. "I looked it up, this area is off limits."

"Then why are you here?" Ron asked.

"Well, excuse me for worrying about you. I just thought I'd let you know so you wouldn't get into anymore trouble. You two seem to love getting into it."

Ron looked defensively at Hermione.

"Well, thanks for the tip, but we're fine," he huffed, turning away from her to shovel a mound of bacon in his mouth.

Hermione looked upset, but bit her tongue and glared at Ron before turning to leave.

Ron grumbled under his breath.

"She's a nightmare, that one, I tell you. It's no wonder she doesn't have any friends."

Hermione, who hadn't been that far off, stalled and turned to face Ron, having heard the jab even as he whispered. Both boys were surprised to see the presence of tears. She looked like she was going to say something, but then her lips twitched and she turned around and ran, her brown bushy head bouncing out of sight.

Ron looked suddenly guilty, and both stood up, abandoning their food to go after her. However, she was gone by the time they reached the landing.

"Bugger…" Ron mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. His eyes dropped to stare at his shifting feet.

"You think she'll tell a teacher we're here?"

Harry, who felt bad for Hermione, no matter how annoying she was, shrugged.

"I don't know, but we should probably leave regardless. She looked really upset…" Harry drifted off.

Ron looked once again very culpable, averting his eyes.

"Yeah, let's go."

The two of them turned and quickly ran back off to the common room, leaving their food on the balcony for a very agitated Filch to find later.

Cosette had gotten up that morning without any knowledge of what day it was, and so after a small breakfast she gathered up her Charms books and headed down to her first class. She hadn't realized that it was Halloween, the Great Hall had been decorated for a few days, and thus there were no classes, and as no one deemed it necessary to inform her of such a thing, she stood outside the classroom alone for nearly twenty minutes. The laughs that she received as she stood there didn't register as anything out of the norm. When she finally realized what everyone was staring and laughing at, she blushed, humiliated, embarrassed, and hurt that no one thought to tell her, and left hastily to her common room.

By the time dinner approached, Cosette was starving. Because of her embarrassment, she refused to show her face during lunch. The food was no different as usual, but to her utmost horror, she soon found that dessert was an insurmountable smorgasbord of wizarding sweets galore.

Cosette wasn't particularly interested in any of the desserts and felt rather sick in general just from looking at them, her mind returning to the ghastly sweets on the train and what such, macabre looking sweets could possibly do. Her attention shifted suddenly when Melvin Aguillard, the rogue Slytherin she had met on her first day there, came into the Great Hall in nothing but a purple ribbon and a pair of white trainers. There were numerous shrieks and stares as he ran past each table, his hands in the air and his jovial grin plastered across his face.

Cosette stared mortified as he ran past her table, unsure of what she was even baring witness to. All that she was aware of was the angry bellow of Professor Snape over all the noise the students were making and the Slytherin Prefects chasing Melvin out of the Great Hall.

On the other side of the Great Hall, Harry and Ron pigged out on the sweets.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron had asked rather rhetorically.

Harry was wondering the same thing; her customary nagging was unusually silent.

Seamus Finnegan at this point chimed in to answer.

"Patsy says she hasn't come out of the girl's bathroom. She says she's been in there all day, crying."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, and Ron turned his face back to his food guiltily. Nothing more was said when suddenly Harry turned to the teachers when noise erupted, mainly from the Hufflepuff table. McGonagall looked extremely affronted and Flitwick was banging on his chest to dislodge a piece of Pumpkin pasty he had swallowed. Dumbledore was calmly sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, smiling curiously, the usual twinkle in his blue eyes. Snape's face was red with rage and he looked ready to burst a blood vessel. Harry watched in amusement as his least favorite teacher filled himself with torrents of fury that he knew could not have been caused by him in this instance. He noticed Fred and George laughing almost uncontrollably over something, and it was then that Harry really started to notice the amount of noise going on around him in the form of high shrieks, numerous yells, and uncontrollable laughter.

Blinking, Harry looked about the Great Hall and spotted two Prefects dressed in Slytherin robes running about, and it was only then did he notice the very naked student they were chasing after. It wasn't until the Prefects chased the bare bottomed kid out of the Great Hall did Ron look up, face crammed with hot fudge and ice-cream sprinkles, brows furrowed and anxiously looking for the source of everyone's amusement.

"What? _What?"_ he impatiently asked his twin brothers, who were chortling so strongly, one had actually fallen off the bench.

Before anyone could answer Ron's query, the Great Hall was once again disturbed, this time by none other than Professor Quirrell. His presence seemed to go wildly unnoticed as the clamor was still brewing full force. However, once he started bellowing— voice devoid of stuttering, and echoing— the Hall began to settle.

"Troll! Troll in the Dungeon!" He was out of breath and looked very white. His usually well kept turban was lopsided and loose.

Cosette was one of the few students who noticed the presence of their Defense teacher, and when he yelled out in such a frightened scream the presence of trolls, she felt a wave of fear roll over her.

By his third shout, the Great Hall had fallen into a thick silence, the mirth of the previous fiasco quickly dissolving. All eyes turned nervously to their teacher.

"I thought you ought to know."

Quirrell fainted.

There was a split second where everyone just stared, disbelieving and silent. Then, as if lightening had struck, chaos broke out in the Hall. Kids began screaming, jumping out of their seats and panicking. Dumbledore stood up suddenly, and his loud, echoing voice suddenly stopped everyone in their tracks.

"_Silence!_"

Everyone froze and stared at the elderly Headmaster. His look of amusement was quickly replaced with a stern look of concern.

"Prefects will guide their students to their dorm rooms immediately; teachers will follow me to the dungeons."

Almost immediately, the students were being gathered about by their respective Prefects and lead out of the Great Hall; all but the Slytherins, who stood there suddenly pale in the face and terrified. Cosette looked about, just as terrified as her classmates. The students were freaking out. There was a troll in the dungeon. There was a troll running around their common room, where Dumbledore was telling them to go! Not only that, but their Prefects had run off to catch that stupid Aguillard boy and were nowhere to be seen. Looking nervously at their last option, Cosette turned hastily to the Head Table, just in time to see their Head of House turn tail and leave the Great Hall, leaving all the Slytherins to themselves.

Pandemonium broke out among the Slytherins. Many of the first years began crying and screaming, the seventh years looked about nervously, unsure what to do now that the Prefects and their Head of House were absent, and everyone in between was running about in terror. Cosette herself was close to crying, looking at the older students for help. She watched as the other houses' students began leaving systematically and all the teachers began departing as well. All of them had left except one, and she was only slightly relieved to see that it was Professor Grimsdyke.

She quickly approached the students, face tight and devoid of any sort of warmth she had seen previously. She looked rather furious about something other than the troll, as if her anger was directed at a specific person. As she stood in front of the students, her pursed lips bent into a frown.

"Everyone, calm down. I want you all to form two straight lines and follow me to the Astronomy tower. There is nothing to panic over. We are going to higher ground, you will be safe. Quickly now! Stop sniveling and get into order!"

At the idea of going to the Astronomy tower, a vastly higher story in the castle and far away from the dungeons, and thus the troll, the Slytherins calmed down considerably. Cosette quickly formed into line with the rest as Grimsdyke began to lead them out of the Great Hall, the Slytherins much calmer with her reassuring words, all relieved by her appearance.

Harry and Ron shuffled out of the Great Hall with their fellow classmates. Percy was in his prime element, keeping all the students orderly and making sure they were all following him. Harry's head was buzzing with questions and panic. How did the troll get in? What exactly was a troll? How dangerous were they? The only answer he could gleam was that trolls had to be at least dangerous enough to warrant everyone's panicked mood. This answer did nothing to settle his own brewing panic.

Just then, Ron tapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" Harry asked exasperated

"Remember what Seamus said, why Hermione wasn't at the feast?"

Harry's heart fell into his stomach as he remembered Seamus telling them that Hermione was in the girl's bathroom, crying the whole day.

"She doesn't know about the troll!" Harry said in sudden realization.

Both of them realized they had to go warn her as quickly as possible. They both took off towards the opposite staircase heading down away from Gryffindor tower.


	14. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 14<p>

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

The two Gryffindors dashed their way down the corridors, not stopping to even let the Prefects know of their disappearance. As much as they didn't like that Hermione girl, they didn't want her to die, and they felt partially responsible for her absence. As they trampled their way down the dark, dimly lit hallway, they stopped briefly to catch their breath just short of the girl's lavatory. Amidst catching their breath, they heard thunderous footfalls that registered to both Harry and Ron as crescendos of thunder.

"Do you hear that?" Ron asked attentively as they took on a hesitant advance to the bathroom.

"Yeah…" Harry remarked by his side. Both exchanged a look of horror when they heard the thunderous footsteps approaching.

They quickly hid behind a marble pillar by the side of the hallway. A horrid musky scent filled their nostrils and made Harry gag slightly as both him and Ron's eyes watered from the scent alone.

"Do you think that's…?"

Ron's words were confirmed and effectively cut short when they spotted the colossal, lumbering form of a troll stamping ahead towards the girl's bathroom, dragging a tree size club behind him. It seemed to consider the door for a long moment before entering.

"I think the troll's left the dungeons," Harry remarked.

Ron gulped.

They turned the corner that led to the bathroom and peered hesitantly in. Neither made note of the differences between the girl's bathroom and the boy's as one usually would. Their focus was drawn directly and singularly to the massive hulking monster. Upon seeing it, both boys froze. The thing had thick leathery green skin that was cracked at the joints. Its feet were protruding and clawed nails, gnarled and twisted and black. The arms were bulky, thickened with fat and muscle and its head was peanut-shaped. The face was a contorted vision of snarling crooked and gummy teeth, large, mashed in nose and squinty, pitch black eyes. Though its formidable sight did nothing to hide the rather dimwitted expression it wore. There was not a hair present on its head, and the only thing it wore was a large animal pelt draped about its waist, dangling from it many bones of its previous meals.

As they left, they made sure to close and lock the door behind them in order to keep the troll from escaping.

"We should alert the professors," Harry told Ron as they began to run away, hearing the tell-tale sound of wood crashing behind them as the troll thrashed about.

The red-head nodded his head feverishly. They were both stopped suddenly by a loud, piercing scream.

Both stopped, as if hit by lightening. The scream had come from the bathroom, the room they had just locked the troll in.

"Hermione!"

Faster than you could blink, both boys changed course and ran back to the lavatory. They pried open the massive door and was greeted with the sight of the lumbering troll's back as it advanced towards a cowering, whimpering Hermione like a cornered mouse.

Both boys were struck with a wave of panic, fear and dread. What could they do against a giant troll? No teachers were present, and they both only had an arsenal of a few spells underneath their belts. Yet, they had to do something. They couldn't leave Hermione alone.

"Hermione, move!" Ron yelled helplessly.

However, Hermione didn't budge. She only sat there, staring, petrified with fear, at the snarling creature in front of her. They needed to get the troll's attention off of her so that she could move. Scanning the area around, Harry noted the broken, splintered remains of the cubicles and quickly reached down and picked up a piece. Ron, understanding the implications, followed suit.

"Oy, pea brain!" Ron called and chucked the piece of wood as hard as he could.

However, no matter how hard they threw them, all their projectiles bounced off harmlessly.

Both watched helplessly as the troll ignored them and lifted one of its massive, meaty arms to swing at the hopeless Hermione. Terrified and with his adrenaline running, Harry sprung into action without thinking or stopping. As the troll lifted its club into the air, Harry grabbed hold, effectively taking a ride up into the air as the troll raised it over his head.

Harry dropped clumsily onto the beast's shoulders, and the weight of him registered in a way that their pathetic wooden planks couldn't. It shook about confusedly, drool and slobber dribbling from its large, protruding lower lip. He shook and danced and spun to try and remove him, but Harry clung on fast to its leathery hide, grabbing into ridges of skin and holding on for dear life. In one swift move, Harry thrust his wand into the troll's face intending to cast a spell, but the troll threw himself forward slightly and Harry was thrown forward. He wrapped his arms around the troll's head to hang on and by doing so he managed to lodge his wand effectively up the troll's left nostril. The creature howled, and the pain seemed to work through his peanut sized brain, reminding him that he had hands to use as well. Quite effectively, the troll grabbed onto a scrawny leg of its attacker and easily removed them.

Suspended upside down by the troll, Harry felt all the blood rush to his head. Everything happened so fast, he couldn't even register fear or pain as the troll swung its mighty club at him. Harry's last second curl saved his life, as the club missed his head by several inches as he tried to avoid it.

"Do something!" Harry called out in terror.

Ron looked about helplessly, his body shaking like jelly.

"What?" he called back in fright.

"Anything!" Harry dodged another near blow.

Ron finally pulled out his wand and aimed it at the troll, an unsure look on his face. Ron cleared his throat and aimed his wand on the assaulting club.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The next swing the giant made was halted. As the troll swung, his club didn't follow, and his fist swung emptily at its target. The troll, slow of tongue and thought, stared for quite a few seconds in dumb confusion, before it tentatively looked up into the air, where its weapon was being suspended.

Ron smiled at his handiwork, and released his wand's hold on the club. Like a rope had been cut, the tree trunk fell and made solid impact with the creature's head with a resounding _'thunk'_. The blow successfully made the troll loosen its grasp on Harry's leg, and he went crumpling to the ground. He quickly crawled himself away as the massive form of the troll began to swerve and wobble. Harry just managed to veer clear as the monster finally collapsed in an ungraceful heap at his feet.

All three of them stared in silent awe, blood pumping and hearts racing. Hermione tentatively approached them, licking her lips and looking nervously between them and the troll.

Is it…dead?" she asked nervously.

"No," Harry said, noting the heaving breath of the troll. "Just knocked out I would imagine."

Harry walked up to the troll cautiously, the thing wasn't moving and he hesitantly brought his hand to its face. Small fingers grasped his protruding wand and pulled. Out came his wand with a fine film of slimy, clear snot.

Ugh… Troll bogies," Harry remarked in disgust, and wiped the remains on his cloak.

Before anyone had time to add to it, there came a clamor at the door to the bathroom as Professor McGonagall came rushing in, Quirrell and Snape at her trail. Quirrell, upon seeing the troll, squealed and held onto a sink for support, Snape contorted his face with a harsh glare, and when they landed their eyes on McGonagall, any thoughts of gaining house points for their heroism were immediately replaced with the loathing feeling of trouble.

"Explain yourselves at once!" she demanded.

Harry had never seen his Head of House so angry, not even when he was caught riding his broom without permission. He and Ron nervously stuttered excuses.

"It was my fault, Professor."

Both boys turned to stare in awe at Hermione. Did she really just lie to a teacher, miss goody-toe-shoes, teacher's pet? Did she really just lie for _them? _

McGonagall also seemed surprised at this.

"Ms. Granger?" she uttered in astonishment.

"I read about trolls, I thought I could handle it, so I went looking for it," Hermione turned her head away; a guilty look came across her eyes. "If it wasn't for Harry and Ron, coming to find me, I'd probably be dead."

The Transfigurations teacher pursed her lips.

"You foolish, foolish child. What on earth were you thinking? You could have been killed! I should have to tell you that what you did was a very reckless thing indeed. I expected much better from you, Ms. Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor."

Hermione lowered her head in shame. McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron, and Harry was just waiting for her to tell them they would be expelled. Even with Hermione lying for them, the chances were too slim for hope.

"As for you two," she looked them over. "It's no easy feat for a first year to take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five points will be awarded to each of you…for sheer dumb luck. Now, leave at once to your common room, we shall deal with matters here presently."

The three of them didn't need to be told twice. They left in a flurry. The boys tentatively looked at Hermione and she looked back. She smiled slightly at them, a glimmer of gratitude and trust shining in her brown eyes. They walked the rest of the way to the common room in companionable silence.

The next day found Harry and Ron sitting next to Hermione at breakfast. The three had exchanged thank yous and apologies and had quickly grown a bond. There were just certain things you couldn't go through with someone and just remain acquaintances. Hermione was a bright and talkative witch who had proved a valuable friend. She had helped both of them with their homework the previous night (the Herbology homework that was due on Thursday) as a thank you. They had quickly become friends, and learned that her pretense of bossiness was really just undirected desire to help others. Harry couldn't understand how he got any of his homework done before becoming friends with Hermione.

On the other end of the Great Hall, Cosette had taken up the end of the table, only mildly aware of Daphne Greengrass as she passed by, flicking what was left of her hash browns into her hair as she returned to the common room. The night before had been brutal. The Slytherins had to fearfully huddle in the Astronomy Tower and anxiously worry. Many of the first years had started crying at the prospect of a troll prowling around where they slept, and many of the older students were complaining about their belongings being trampled and otherwise destroyed. The one related feeling in everyone's mind was the growing dislike for the Headmaster after his rather contrite proclamation about their arrangements. Many of the older students had resorted to bad-mouthing the wizard, turning towards the younger students and assuring them that "they should get used to such treatment from the muggle-loving old fool." Cosette didn't know how to view this, but the other students were quick to accept this opinion, and Cosette couldn't find reason to argue it, and so she kept her mouth shut. Were they really supposed to accept that the Headmaster treated the Slytherins differently? The older students made it sound like this wasn't the first time he disregarded them so.

They had returned to their common room a little over an hour later, but no one got any sleep. Everyone was still shaken and half afraid that the troll was still bustling about. Cosette was no better and couldn't fight back the fear that maybe the troll would return, or possibly that there was another one that the teachers didn't catch. It didn't help that when she woke up and went to breakfast, that the rumors about what had happened flooded her from all around. She was staring with eyes partially glazed over from lack of sleep at the other end of the table at where her brother was sitting, calmly laughing with Ron and that Granger girl like there wasn't a care in the world, and that he hadn't tried once again to get himself brutally killed.

Word had spread about their adventure in the girl's bathroom like wildfire. Everyone was gossiping, from the portraits, to the ghosts, to the student body and faculty about how Harry and Ron heroically rescued poor little Granger from certain death. When she had heard the tale, she hadn't at first believed it, for who would believe the story of two eleven year olds tackling a giant, twelve foot tall mountain troll? Yet, as she gazed over her untouched breakfast to her brother, happily carrying on with the bushy headed girl, the girl she had sworn was the most annoying chatterbox ever and felt she needed to answer every question the teacher asked, she knew it true. Her twin had once again decided to throw his life in such danger. She wanted to be mad at him for such a thing, she wanted to storm and rage about how he so easily seemed to throw his wellbeing about for what could only be attention, but she couldn't. All Cosette felt was the deep, chest clenching pain that came with the knowledge that she had once again almost lost her brother because of his own carelessness.

Her eyes blurred with tears and she feverishly tried to hide them, knowing that the taunts and snickers of her peers would not sooth them. Instead, she got up from the table, hiding her face with her hair and left, foodstuffs falling from her hair and making several people up the table laugh heartily. If anything, this last performance from her brother only further cemented her resentment of him, and as much as she wanted to be close with Harry, she now couldn't stand the thought of being around him. He obviously cared very little for her, anyhow.

November was here. The barren trees whistled and the winds chilled. Gone were the warm drizzles; now, one could see their own breath with each exhale. The sky was no longer clear, but full of rain and snow clouds, white as far as the eyes could see. Quidditch season.

Harry had been swamped with practice. He had been introduced formally to the rest of the team last week. As he already knew Wood to be the keeper, and Fred and George to be the beaters, the only new introductions were the three chasers who were all easy to tell apart from the other players as they were all female. Alicia Spinnet was a rather heavyset square jawed girl of African descent. She seemed to be the quietest and most domineering of the bunch. The other two chasers seemed to listen to follow whatever play or strategy she recommended to great effect. Katie Bell seemed to be second in command among the chasers. She was a browned haired girl with ivory skin. She was much more boisterous than Alicia and was an excellent flyer with sharp aim with the quaffle. Angelina Johnson was the last of the three chasers. She was much more lithe and notably more feminine in appearance compared to Alicia. She was very responsive and speedy on a broom, though her aim was terrible and she usually would run with the quaffle to pass it off to one of the other two chasers so they could make the shot. She by far seemed to take the game the least seriously of the three chasers.

Harry meanwhile barely had time to even complete his homework, and he had never been happier to have such a bookworm as a friend. Hermione seemed to know the library like the back of her hand, and was a walking, breathing encyclopedia on wizardry. She had happily helped him locate '_Quidditch Through the Ages,' _a book that he found to be most useful to his position and quite thoroughly enjoyed. They were spending the day out in the courtyard. Hermione had managed to capture a flame in a jar with some spell to keep them warm while they chatted and read over the book.

It seemed like the perfect way to spend a Sunday, that is, until they spotted the black, billowing form of Professor Snape marching near their direction. They quickly sat around the fire, backs facing it to try and hide it from his view; sure that Snape would have some issue with it being there. All ceased their laughing and stared. They all noticed that he was walking with a very obvious limp.

"What have you got there, Potter?" His eyes squinted at the book in his hands, apparently not noticing the fire.

Harry briefly looked down at his copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ then back up at Snape. His lip curled when he saw the title.

"Give it here. Library books are not allowed outside of the school. Five points from Gryffindor."

Before Harry knew it, his book was snatched out of his hands and he turned to leave, a sneer on his lips.

Ron grumbled and Harry's shoulders slumped. He actually found one book he was interested in reading, and Snape had to take it.

"He just made that rule up," Ron mumbled with a distasteful sound. "Bloody dungeon bat."

"Ron!" Hermione flashed the red-head a disapproving look. Ron just shrugged.

Harry's eyes followed Snape's limping form until he was out of sight.

"What do you think is wrong with his leg?" he asked curiously.

Ron shrugged.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him."

Harry agreed.

Now without his book, he slumped forward rather bored and angry. Did Snape have to make everything miserable? It's not like he did well in Potions class, because Snape made it impossibly hard for all his students, but more so for him. He honestly didn't know who could stand his class. Just as he thought this, he saw a rather hunched over form briskly walking through the breezeway Snape had just disappeared through. He'd noticed the long, wild red hair anywhere.

Immediately Harry sat up straighter. Cosette had her nose buried in a book and wasn't quite paying attention to where she was going. A couple of students were walking by her chatting languidly and he watched as Cosette accidentally crashed into them. The other students didn't even flinch from getting run into by such a meek little girl, but Cosette, being so frail and skeletal, wobbled, teetered, then fell over like a frail tree.

To Harry's surprise, the other students didn't even stop to see if she was alright. They simply glared at her, muttered something he couldn't hear, and kept walking. Cosette stayed in her position on the floor, books falling to the ground. Immediately, Harry felt a wave of guilt. He and his sister had been playing the ignoring game for almost a month now and suddenly felt shameful. He hadn't meant to stay angry with her for so long, but he hadn't realized time had flown so quickly. He had been so distracted with homework and Quidditch practice that he had let their squabble go too far.

"I'll be right back guys," Harry informed his two friends and began walking towards Cosette, who was slowly getting her bearings and collecting her things. Both of them nodded from where they sat.

As Harry leaned down to help retrieve her things, he noticed Cosette tense. She looked up cautiously, as if expecting an attack of some sort. When she recognized his face, she relaxed slightly, but didn't say a word.

"Are you alright?" he asked cautiously as he handed her one of her books. He noted, with distaste, that it was a Potions book from the library.

Cosette straitened back up and took the offered book.

"I'm fine," she rushed out, dusting off the bottom of her skirt.

He tilted his head in confusion, wondering why she sounded so cold, and why she was still holding onto a grudge.

Struggling to find a way to keep a conversation going so that he could somehow apologize for all that happened, Harry continued.

"Well.., er…what have you been up to?"

Even to his own ears that sounded weak and pathetic. Cosette just shrugged.

"Reading, mostly." Her eyes refused to meet his, and he wondered if she was still mad at him. He was willing to look over the whole dueling incident, couldn't she forgive him? He would admit that he had probably misjudged her far too quickly, and he only hoped that she would listen long enough to hear him apologize. He never had to before, and so he didn't know how to go about it.

"Really? Like what?"

Cosette huffed, as if irritated by his pleasant attempt at conversation.

"One Thousand Practical Uses of Herbs and Fungi in the Modern Potion," Cosette held up the very book Harry had handed her.

Harry wrinkled his nose at the thought of Potions.

"Yeah, I am having trouble with the homework in that class, too."

"I don't have any trouble with the written assignments. I actually find them rather straightforward."

"Oh," Harry blinked. "So…you like Potions then…?"

Cosette thought a moment, her head tilting to the side. She then looked at Harry; her eyes seemed to lose some of the coldness.

"Well…I guess. I mean, I didn't at first, but I think I like it now that I'm reading more about it," She admitted, fidgeting somewhat.

"Honestly?" Harry was somewhat baffled by the thought of anyone enjoying Snape's class.

Cosette looked suddenly unsure, as if she were doing something wrong. She shirked back slightly, ashamed.

"Well…yeah. Is something wrong with that?"

Sensing the sharp turn this could make, Harry tried to steer back into control.

"Well… no, not really, I mean, if it wasn't for that greasy git of a teacher…"

Cosette's face instantly shifted. Her lips frowned and her eyes narrowed.

"Professor Snape is a brilliant teacher. You just don't like him because he doesn't kiss the ground you walk on."

Harry blinked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, looking insulted.

"You know what I mean," she said bitterly and started walking.

"No, I really don't," Harry answered, walking to keep up with her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This! Being so cold and distant. It's like you are going out of your way to ignore me…"

Cosette stopped and stared at him.

"Is that what you think I've been doing?" she frowned.

"Well...yeah," Harry nervously shifted.

Cosette's expression turned a shade darker. She tensed and cradled her books tighter to her chest and dropped her head so her hair hid her face, an insecure manner she had done all her life.

"Why don't you just go back to your _friends_. I'm sure they'll miss you if you spend too much time away from them, with a _Slytherin_ no less."

Harry wanted to persist more, ask her what she meant by that out-of-left-field comment, but before he could, she brushed passed him and walked swiftly ahead. Feeling confused, but more than a bit insulted at his sister's behavior, Harry clenched his teeth.

"You might want to think about returning those books to the library, or your favorite, _brilliant _professormight just take them from you."

He watched as her back tensed, head bowed and continued walking at a somewhat faster pace.

Harry stood there for a few seconds, kicking the ground angrily. He just didn't understand what was going on with his sister. How could one little argument make her so mad? He was soon approached by his two friends, who seemed to gauge the mood he was in.

"Wasn't that your sister?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Hermione shifted her eyes from him to the direction he was glaring into.

"Is she alright?"

Harry angrily clenched his fists.

"I wouldn't know."

Ron sniffed and crossed his arms.

"Pshaw, I bet she's still upset about you making Seeker."

At this, Hermione turned to glare at Ron. The red-head suddenly looked anxious by her glare.

"What?"

"Honestly, did it ever occur to you that people have more than just Quidditch on their brain?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"No, why should they?" Ron shrugged. "It's Quidditch season, after all!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped the subject.

No matter where the conversations lead to for the rest of the day, Harry couldn't get over what had happened at that afternoon. He finally decided that the safest way to handle the situation with Cosette was to give her space, and that the next time, he should let her approach him. She would come to him when she was ready. Maybe trying to approach her so suddenly wasn't such a good idea. She just needed space, time to cool off, and as much as he didn't want to do that, he would give it to her.

His head felt stuffy from it all, from Quidditch to school work and now his sister's problems. While they were sitting in the common room, Harry couldn't even enjoy the pleasant conversation. He finally gave a huff, giving up pretenses of being okay, and jumped off the common room couch.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Dean Tomas asked from his position in front of the fire.

"Nothing. I'm just going to see if I can get my Quidditch book back from Professor Snape," Harry half-lied. He really just wanted to get some time alone to think.

"Better you than me, mate," Ron muttered, and then turned back to the conversation he; Dean and Seamus Finnegan were having about Quidditch.

Harry wandered around the castle blindly for a while, trying to work things out. By the time he found himself in front of the dungeons, he decided he would try his luck at getting his book back, after all. He really did want it back, and hopefully Snape wouldn't give him too much grief over it.

As he approached the Potions class room, he couldn't help but notice the door was ajar. Curiosity got the better of him when he heard voices from within. Approaching the door, Harry put his face to the crack and peered in.

The Potions classroom was dark, as it always was, save for the few lit torches along the walls. He couldn't make out much, and he had to squint his eyes. Inside he could plainly make out the outline of Snape's back. His teacher's robes were rolled up and his leg, mangled and blood drenched, was propped up on a chair, where a perturbed looking Filch was tending to.

"Blasted beast. How is anyone supposed to keep an eye on all three heads at once?" he heard Snape's clenched, pain-filled admonition. Filch was handing him some bandages and he was wrapping them around his leg.

"It serve's you right. You're almost as bad as Dumbledore! Leaving your entire house in a state of panic for me to single-handedly sort out. I expected more of you Severus," Harry heard a female voice he was not familiar with say. "What were you doing up there, anyway?"

Before Snape could answer, Harry's curiosity got the best of him and he briefly forgot that the door he was leaning on was open and he fell into the room.

Harry stood up hastily and as quickly as he could, scanned all the other occupants of the room. Snape was eyeing him with a loathsome glare, Filch seemed genuinely surprised, and the female voice Harry was not familiar with turned out to belong to a young, pretty blonde woman who was wearing a long emerald cocktail dress. Harry eyed this last person, unable to identify his reasons for being particularly interested in her. She had her arms crossed in front of her busty chest and wore an expression of mild dislike and annoyance.

"Potter!" Snape's voice bellowed. He quickly dropped his robes to hide his obvious injury. Harry gulped.

"Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if I could have my book ba—"

"Out! _Get_ _Out_!"

Harry back-pedaled immediately. He was sure Snape couldn't go after him with his leg in such a condition, but just to make sure, Harry ran as fast as his scrawny legs could take him out of the dungeons and back to the common room, only staying long enough to hear the woman continue berating Snape. When he made it to the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

"Well, did you get it?" Ron asked. His brows furrowed when he noticed how heavy Harry was breathing. "Crikey, what did he do to you; chase you all the way up here?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "But I think I know why Snape's leg is so messed up."

They all sat down and Harry explained what he saw.

"Do you know what this means?" he finished. "It means that he tried to get passed that three-headed dog on Halloween! It means that Snape is after whatever that thing is guarding. I'd bet my Nimbus that he even let the troll in as a diversion!"

Hermione frowned at this, looking unconvinced.

"No way, Harry. I mean, granted, Snape isn't the _nicest _teacher there is—"

Ron snorted.

"—he's still a teacher! Besides, Dumbledore trusts him enough to teach here. I don't think he'd try to steal something Dumbledore went to such measures to protect…"

"Honestly Hermione, you think that all teachers are saints or something…" Ron mumbled, eyeing the bushy-headed girl. "I'm with Harry here; I wouldn't put it passed Snape. I trust him just about as far as I can throw him. The only question now is, what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

For this, none of them had an answer.

They went to bed soon after, Harry announcing that he had to get enough rest in order to play in his first match tomorrow: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. He was beyond nervous and hardly got any sleep that night, he just kept tossing and turning, his thoughts filled with angry Potions Masters and three headed dogs and his sister.

When he woke up, he found himself much more tired than when he went to bed. He got up, showered and dressed, then went down to breakfast. However, his nervousness wouldn't allow him to eat. He had no appetite whatsoever; no matter how much Hermione tried coercing him to. He just didn't feel ready, and the anxiousness was eating him alive.

"You need to eat to keep up your strength," the thick Irish accent alerted him. He looked up sharply and met blue eyes. "Seekers have it rough out there."

"Thanks, Seamus," he murmured as he watched the boy pile his plate high with potatoes and sausage.

"Don't you worry Harry; everything will turn out good in the end."

Harry turned to see one of the Weasley twins addressing him.

"Yeah, trust us; we know all about first game jitters. It's worth it though," Fred said looking over at his brother.

"Yeah, just think about all the good you get out of it," George added.

"The popularity."

"The girls."

"The great exercise."

"The girls."

"Hearing your name chanted by hundreds."

"Oh, and the girls."

"Oy, how could I have forgotten them? The best prize of all!"

Both twins laughed and Harry felt the corners of his lips twitch, feeling much better thanks to the twin's nonchalant liveliness.

Harry slowly managed to choke down a piece of toast and a few sips of hot tea before getting up to retrieve his Nimbus Two-thousand from his dorm room.

Everyone was already in their seats. The chatter and noise did nothing to lift Harry's mood as he entered the locker room with his things. He slowly got changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes, his stomach churning with the thought he would be flying out onto the Quidditch pitch soon.

The team assembled and Wood began his usual pep talk that he gave before practice, though this one was notably longer and somewhat more emotional in a way. Harry didn't hear anything of what Wood was saying since he was too preoccupied with his own anxiety.

Finally, they made their way out onto the field. The team, like clockwork, mounted their broomsticks and took off. In a formation, they circled the field and Harry felt himself start to feel less nervous as they flew. They then broke formation and continued to zip around the field.

Harry felt much better on a broomstick than he did on the ground. On the broom stick he was in control, the audience and everything that made him nervous previously didn't seem to matter because now he could fly away from it all if he fancied.

It took a few extra minutes for Harry to realize that both teams where regrouping on the ground. Harry landed neatly next to his own team and looked over at their rival Slytherin team.

All of them seemed to be of the same build; thick, tall, and all with a stupid expression on their faces that revealed their cracked and crooked teeth. Harry noted the one standing in front of the rest seemed to be the thickest, tallest, and stupidest of them all. It was this one who Harry took to be the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint that Wood approached to shake hands with.

Both glared venomously at each other as they both seemed to try to break the others fingers. Neither one blinked as both of them wore an expression that seemed to be daring the other to do just that.

Madam Hooch gave an approving nod from between the two teams and after warning both teams of her desire for a nice clean game, they were off.

Noise erupted from all directions as Harry again took flight. It was only then that it occurred to him that the stadium went silent when Flint and Wood were shaking hands and only now erupted with noise. Harry heard the booming voice of Lee Jordan, a good friend of the Weasley twins, announcing the happenings of the game to everyone.

"And they're off! Welcome again folks to Hogwarts School opening Quidditch match of the season! Slytherin vs. Gryffindor!" There was a resounding cheer from all areas of the stadium. "And the lineup for both teams includes some interesting additions on Gryffindor's part this year and the usual trolls from Slytherin." There was an uproar of agreement from the Gryffindor side of the stadium, and Harry was only barely able to hear McGonagall's disapproving tone address Lee.

"I'm sorry, Professor…" Lee said before continuing. "We have the usual team from last year with Fred and George Weasley as beaters, Oliver Wood as Keeper, and Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson as chasers! One interesting addition is Gryffindor's new Seeker, the sheer fact that the famed Charlie Weasley's replacement is none other than first year student Harry Potter!"

There again was resounding cheers from the Gryffindors as well as many boos and hisses from the Slytherins. One student even called out: "Harry Potter sucks!"

Harry felt his face burn slightly from this and was glad that Lee Jordan continued over the noise.

"The Slytherin line up this year is Adrian Pucey, Graham Montague, and Marcus Flint as Chasers. Miles Bletchey as Keeper, Terrance Higgs as Seeker and finally the Beaters Paris Troy and Helga Gregorian." There were many cheers from the Slytherins accompanied by the boos from the Gryffindors, though Lee Jordan did not continue or elaborate more as he did with the Gryffindors.

Lee Jordan seemed to be absorbing the savoring the noise before continuing.

"It looks like they are getting into position, yes I think they are."

Harry saw everyone getting into position. The Keepers took their position on their respective side of the field and the Chasers hovered in a circle by the center. The Beaters formed a smaller circle above the Chasers and the Slytherin Seeker was patiently waiting for Harry to take position opposite him above the Beaters. Harry took his position and looked down to the ground where Madam Hooch stood. She stared up at all of them wearing an expression not unlike the one she wore when she watched Neville fly around uncontrollably months earlier.

She unceremoniously kicked the chest that Harry knew to have the bludgers, quaffle and snitch in it. She then released each bludger shortly followed by the snitch, which flew up teasingly to Harry and the Slytherin seeker before darting off and in the blink of an eye, disappearing into the sunlight.

Finally, Madam Hooch released the quaffle and the game began.

"Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor in possession of the quaffle, guarded by Alicia Spinnet," Lee Jordan said. Harry watched with interest as his teammates made their way down the field with Angelina in possession and Alicia guarding her against offensive chasers. The Slytherin Seeker took off to look for the snitch in the meantime.

"Adrian Pucey makes to steal the quaffle… but is brilliantly blocked by Alicia!" Lee Jordan said. Harry could sense the anticipation of his fellow Gryffindors growing.

"Montague dives in from above and…" Lee Jordan said. "Ouch, that's going to be a foul. Stinkin' cheater," he finished as Montague kicked Alicia in the jaw as he sped past her from above. McGonagall on cue berated Lee once more for his biased commentary.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and called it a foul giving Gryffindor a free shot. Alicia said that she was fine and although she seemed fine her front lip was bloodied. Angelina meanwhile passed the quaffle over to Katie who scored the first ten points to Gryffindor.

Harry smiled despite them having got that shot at the cost of a foul.

"Flint in possession, Montague, Flint, Pucey, Flint. Flint is going to make the shot and… oh, a brilliant interception of the quaffle by Angelina Johnson. Way to take the pressure off the Keeper, and I must say, few people look so bloody good doing it!"

"Lee!" Harry heard McGonagall yell again, but she seemed to be the only Gryffindor that was upset, the rest were all cheering for Angelina loudly.

Angelina was making her way up the field, dodging assaulting chasers brilliantly. She reached the Slytherin end and passed the quaffle up to Katie who immediately scored.

"And that is another ten points for Gryffindor. This has been a great game for Gryffindor so far, though their new Seeker seems opt for spacing out."

Harry again felt his face burn as he remembered he was supposed to be looking for the snitch. He began circling the field, searching for a glint of gold. He also remembered that he should keep an eye on the opposing Seeker, which he did diligently. The Slytherin Seeker did not seem to have spotted the snitch yet though.

"Flint in possession, he's heading down the pitch, He's going to score… And he misses, brilliant block by Wood, who passes it off the Alicia, who in turn passes it off to Angelina."

It was then that Harry spotted it, a glint of gold circling the Slytherin hoops. It was the Snitch! He had spotted it. He pelted towards it with all his might, keeping his eye keenly on it as not to lose sight of it. The Slytherin Seeker had noticed Harry's acceleration and made to follow him, trying to see where it was he was headed. All the Slytherin Chasers turned towards Harry and attempted numerous fouls on him. Harry dodged Montague and Pucey by pulling a smooth dive, an easy feat on his Nimbus. Both Pucey and Montague crashed into each other with a thick crunching noise as the two tried to regain balance, confused as to where their target went. The Slytherin Seeker was desperately looking for where Harry was headed before he dived. Flint was on Harry's tail, and Harry looked up to the sound of a bludger whistling towards him just in time to avoid said bludger that was hit by Helga. Fred chased after the bludger to hit it back at Flint to get him off Harry's tail, but Flint dodged it rather gracefully.

Harry flew very close to the ground and looked out in front of him, the snitch hadn't moved. He was at the midfield, heading towards the Slytherin side of the field, or he was trying too.

His broom suddenly felt sluggish and unresponsive, quite unnaturally so, especially for a Nimbus Two-thousand. He felt it jerk sideways quite suddenly and violently, avoiding Flint by inches who proceeded to fly past. It then very quickly and without warning he began to shoot skywards. The Slytherin seeker looked at Harry's sudden change of course with confusion, and rushed forward to search the Slytherin side of the field.

"It looked like it might have been a short game but it seems Harry Potter has lost sight of the snitch!" Lee Jordan announced.

No one noticed that there is something wrong with my broom, Harry thought, panic stricken. The broom paused at a formidable height. Harry tried desperately to steer or even move it, but it was completely inert. It was then that quite suddenly the broom bucked and shook violently, as if trying to dismount Harry. Very slowly people started to look up as they noticed the erratic behavior from Harry's broom. Wood even let a goal in accidentally in the confusion. It then very suddenly threw Harry forward over the handle of the broomstick. Harry was terrified as he held on for dear life. He was suspended hundreds of feet above the field, his feet dangling helplessly as he looked down. Fred and George tried to fly up to allow Harry to get onto one of their brooms, but every foot that Fred and George approached towards the broom; the broom would go ten feet higher. It continued to try its best to shake Harry free from it, and because Fred and George couldn't get close enough, they had to circle below Harry, hoping to catch him when he fell.

With both Gryffindor Beaters otherwise engaged in the safety of one of their team mates, the Slytherin beaters took advantage of the situation, knocking both Angelina and Wood from their brooms. Flint began to score over and over and Slytherin soon had a formidable lead. But no one's attention was to this, only on Harry.

On the ground, Cosette was beyond terrified. She had been rather bored at the whole game, and now she felt nothing but dread. For the fourth time since coming to Hogwarts, Harry was about to die. She felt herself growing more and more panic stricken, very much the same way she felt when she watched Harry on a broom stick the last time, where he nearly killed himself over Longbottom's toy.

Ron and Hermione where also terrified, but on a much milder level.

"What on earth is wrong with Harry's broomstick?" Ron said.

Hermione, meanwhile, searched the audience for something, and her eyes landed firmly on Professor Snape, who was staring at Harry by far with the most attention, not even blinking, all while he muttered something under his breath.

"It's Snape, he's jinxing the broom!" Hermione said to Ron.

"He is? Great, what do we do now?" Ron said, more and more panicky.

"Leave it to me," Hermione said as she dove down into the area under the bleachers, where people walked to get to their seats.

She ran as briskly as she could over to the tower Snape was seated in and she began to climb the stairs. She ran as quickly as she could up the stairs, not even apologizing as she accidentally bumped into Professor Quirrell who stumbled over slightly. She finally reached where Snape was sitting and poked her wand out from under the bleachers and with it, lit the hem of Snape robes alight.

It was not long until Snape noticed his cloak burning and he stood up sharply to stomp the fire out as Hermione ran away back to her seat.

The broom gave one final jerk, releasing one hand from its grip around it and then it finally froze. Harry stared up at it, relief washing over him as some of the panic ebbed away. He strained his scrawny frame up high enough to grab the handle with his other hand once more, and then forcefully pulled himself up so he could hug his broom, wrapping his legs around it. He then slowly began to twist himself into an upright position and took his broom back down to solid ground. He let out a solid breath in relief as he came to a safe distance from the ground.

"It looks like the Gryffindor Seeker is back in the game! Just in time too!" Lee Jordan said.

Curious to what Lee meant, Harry scanned the sky for the Slytherin Seeker, spotting him, pelting after a small, shining piece of gold. Harry immediately went back into game mode and pelted after the Slytherin Seeker with all his might. On his Nimbus Two-thousand he easily caught up with him, much to his opponent's annoyance. The two rubbed shoulders as they made their way after the snitch. Every time Harry got close to pulling ahead of him with the superior speed of his broom, Terrance would elbow him in the ribs, causing him to flinch and back up. Harry would elbow him back, but Terrance seemed immune to his blows.

It was then that the snitch itself dived down towards the ground. Harry and Terrance uniformly dived after it. Harry and Terrance continued to be neck and neck, but eventually the snitch got too close to the ground for Terrance to feel being worth it. Harry continued towards the ground, determined to catch it, and tried desperately to pull up after the snitch had pulled up, just inches from the ground, but it was far too late.

The handle of Harry's broom along with his knees rammed painfully into the ground and Harry felt the broom flip forward from the impact causing him to summersault forward. The snitch seemed to become lost in the confusion of the crash. Harry hit his head on the ground and landed smack down on his back. He shakily got to his feet, his knees hurting him terribly. He felt as though he was going to throw up.

All the Gryffindors seemed resigned at this point. Their Keeper was out of the game, Slytherin was ahead and they had just lost their Seeker. The game seemed like a lost cause by now.

It was just then that Harry coughed something up, something small, metal, and round: the golden snitch.

"He caught the snitch! Harry Potter earns his team 150 points for catching the snitch and ends the game. That brings the final score to 170 to 90. Gryffindor wins!"

As the crowds were cheering and her brother was proudly grinning at the crowd, brandishing the snitch in his hand, Cosette felt no cheerfulness. There was nothing remotely reassuring about this game. No amount of merriment could take away the terror she felt, the wave of nausea and panic that suddenly overcame her at the knowledge that he would continue to put his life in danger every time he played. The sick sensation of dread and fear churned her insides. Her lungs and heart felt as if they had suddenly turned to lead, and sunk painfully into her stomach. Hastily she ran from the stands, barely making it to the grass below before she bent over and vomited.

Harry was beyond happy. He had just won the game for his team whom were now congratulating him in a multitude of ways.

"That was amazing Harry! I think you are the first Seeker that managed to catch the snitch in his mouth!" Ron said with a bright smile on his face.

"He didn't catch it, he almost swallowed it!" Flint complained angrily.

However Flint's complaints were issued to no avail, even Madam Hooch offered a reluctant congratulations before making the official call, Gryffindor wins the game.

As everyone made their way back to the castle Harry decided he would rather spend the evening away from the crowd and have tea with Hagrid. His common room would be loud and everyone would be all over him, and he didn't feel too comfortable with that yet. Ron and Hermione quickly agreed, and Harry briefly wondered where Cosette must be. They walked out the back entrance to the Quidditch pitch that led to Hagrid's. It was deserted since most of the students were heading back up to the castle. As Ron and Hermione passed blissfully, Harry paused for he had spotted his sister, sitting on the wet grass outside the exit, her head downcast. He looked ahead at his friends briefly, who did not seem to notice he had paused in his stride. He went over to Cosette and addressed her.

"Hey," Harry said awkwardly.

Cosette looked up at Harry; she looked paper white, extremely shaken and rather ill. Harry was concerned.

"Are you okay?"

Cosette didn't answer.

Harry looked down the path towards Hagrid's.

"We're all going down to Hagrid's, you want to come?"

Again Cosette didn't answer, but simply stood up, ready to follow Harry. Harry awkwardly proceeded down the trodden path, catching up with Hermione and Ron who had just realized he was no longer following them. Cosette followed in absolute silence.

"Alright there, Harry?" Ron asked as Harry finally caught up. They were now all assembled outside of Hagrid's hut.

"Yeah," Harry said.

Ron eyed Cosette somewhat reproachfully but didn't say anything as he turned and knocked on Hagrid's door. There was no answer and the group waited a few moments before they realized Hagrid was coming down the path from the Quidditch pitch.

He eagerly let them in and started a pot of tea.

"So how do yeh feel afer yer firs' game, 'arry?" Hagrid asked as he poured everyone.

Harry still felt enthralled from the game, and his blood was still pumping.

"It's…amazing. I've never felt so alive before," Harry grinned.

"Of course, it probably would have been even better if Snape hadn't tried to kill you," Ron mumbled.

Everyone's eyes landed on him.

"_What?_" it was the resounding echo from both Harry and Hagrid. Cosette gave Ron an inquiring look, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"It's true," Ron defined. "The reason why your broom went wild. It was Snape! He was jinxing the broom."

"Codswallop!" Hagrid shrugged. "P'rfessor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher. Why would he go an' do somethin' like that?"

"I don't know, why was he trying to steal whatever is past that three-headed dog on Halloween?" Harry was now thoroughly convinced that Snape was to blame for his broom going haywire. It all made perfect sense. Snape had somehow known that Harry was aware of his scheme, and therefore tried to kill him to stop him. Harry suddenly felt an all new hatred for the greasy teacher.

"Who told you about Fluffy?" Hagrid looked suddenly surprised.

"Fluffy?" Ron gaped. "Who would name that…that _thing_ Fluffy?"

"Well… well I would," Hagrid shuffled uncomfortably. "Bought him 'bout a year ago down at the pub from a Greek chappie and lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…"

"Yes?" Harry edged on.

Hagrid looked suddenly very pale. His beard curled as his lips were pressed tightly together.

"Look, it's top secret, you guys shouldn't be gettin' involved. Jus' know that Snape isn't tryin' to steal nothin'."

"Then why did he try to kill Harry?" Hermione questioned.

Everyone's eyes turned to her. It was now thoroughly obvious that Hermione had changed her mind about Snape. "I know a jinx when I see one. I've read about them. You have to maintain eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking!"

"Yer all crazy!" Hagrid bellowed. "I don't know why 'arry's broom went crazy, but Snape wouldn' try to kill a student! Listen to me, the three of yeh. Forget everythin' yer thinkin' 'bout. It's not yer business and it's dangerous stuff. Forget 'bout the dog an' what it's guardin', forget yer accusations about Snape; it's all the business of P'rfessor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel…"

"Aha!" Harry grinned triumphantly, and Cosette's face suddenly lit up at the mention of Nicolas Flamel.

"Who's Nicolas Flamel? He's got something to do with all this, doesn't he?" Hermione asked, trying to drill Hagrid for all he knew.

Hargid, who looked beyond furious with himself, was turning a fine shade of red.

"Forget it! All of it! Now I've got stuff to do, so you all better clear out!"

All of them were herded out. The three Gryffindors were huddled together talking about what Hagrid unintentionally let slip. Cosette stared somewhat bemusedly at them, somewhat torn what to believe. Ron's claim about Professor Snape was a little harsh. How could he think that a professor would try to kill him? Yes, her Head of House obviously didn't seem to like Harry, but he wouldn't kill anyone. That was not something you went around accusing people of. Cosette honestly thought that Harry's problem with the broom was his own fault, as he was still just a beginner player. She didn't know enough about brooms to rule out her brother just losing control and falling off. Again, she could only assume that her brother was just trying to find any excuse to blame his hated teacher, and his immaturity annoyed her.

They didn't even seem to notice she was there anymore, as they went on about what Snape was trying to steal and who Nicolas Flamel was. Cosette felt a bit rejected and left out. She knew very well who Flamel was, but none of them even bothered to ask her what she felt about it all. Cosette thought maliciously that her brother was probably purposely not including her because he knew she wouldn't agree with him and his ridiculous accusations. And so, as her brother and his friends continued their heated conversation, Cosette slowly drifted away from them, and she noted with a pang of disappointment, that none of them even noticed her missing.


	15. The Cloak and the Locket

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 15<p>

The Cloak and the Locket

December had come at last, and with it, the call of the Yuletide season. Everywhere one looked outside the vast valleys and fields of the Hogwarts ground was covered in blankets of snow. Children spent their days laughing and playing in the flurries. The Weasley twins had managed to charm a few snowmen to throw snowballs at whoever approached, including a petrified and very jittery Professor Quirrell. The inside of the castle was showing signs of the upcoming holiday. The ghosts were caroling about the school, the halls were covered in wreaths and boughs of holly. The many breezeways of the castle filled the neighboring corridors with cold air and it was even colder in the dungeons than it was outside. This was probably one of the few things that encouraged students to huddle closer to their boiling caldrons against the warnings of their professor who said they should avoid breathing the fumes.

Harry had noticed the signup sheet in his dormitory for all students who were staying at Hogwarts for the holiday. Harry wasted no time in signing his name, for he had no wish to return to the Dursleys to celebrate there, and the thought of having Christmas at Hogwarts filled him with the jolly spirit. Ron and his brothers were also staying behind, because their parents were visiting his brother Charlie in Romania.

As Harry wandered through the hallway, he noticed a large, pine tree slowly inching its way into the Great Hall. On closer inspection, Harry noted Hagrid at the head of the massive tree, huffing as he pulled the tree behind him. He and Ron walked up to greet him.

"Oy, Hagrid, You need any help?" Ron asked.

Hagrid stopped for a bit and smiled at the two Gryffindors.

Nah, I've got this 'ere taken care of," he answered. "But yeh might want to take a look at the Great 'all," he winked.

Curious now, the two of them looked ahead of Hagrid through the vast wooden doors. Both of their mouths fell open.

The Great Hall was properly decorated for the season. Green wreaths looped across the walls, springs of mistletoe floated in the air, silver bells, red bows, strings of candied popcorn and candles seemed to dance and swirl above the tables. There were also no less then twelve gigantic Christmas trees stationed inside, all just as big as the one Hagrid was carrying. They were alit with glimmering lights and ornaments, on top rested bright, twinkling stars. Professor McGonagall was helping Professor Flitwick create and string the decorations.

"Wow," Harry said as he admired the room.

"Better keep your mouth shut Potter, or you might swallow another snitch."

Harry turned to glare at Malfoy, who had been standing their pompously and smirking next to Crabbe and Goyle. Ever since the Quidditch game, Malfoy had been insulting Harry about how he caught the snitch with his mouth—jealous and resentful of the fact that Harry had cost Slytherin the game. Harry glared at the Slytherin.

"What's the matter Potter? Upset that some people's parents wanted them home this year? Upset that some of us _have_ parents?"

At this, Harry's face turned red and before he could help it, he made a dive at Malfoy.

"Potter!"

The anger drained from him at the bellow from none other than Snape. He turned guiltily at the Potions teacher.

"Fighting with other students? Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape sneered.

"Is' not his fault, p'rfessor," Hagrid interrupted. "He was provoked."

"Be that as it may Hagrid, fighting with other students in not permitted. Now all of you move along."

At this, Malfoy stuck up his nose and sauntered out of the Great Hall, and after one last unpleasant sneer, Snape left.

Harry stared at the back of Malfoy's head as he left, inwardly comparing Malfoy's snooty, stuck up nature to that of Dudley's. However, before he could say anything, Hermione came bouncing into the Great Hall.

"I finally found you two," she looked between the two. "I think we should meet up in the library after lunch, don't you?"

"Library? Didn't yeh just get yer progress report? Did yeh really do that bad? Why are you goin' there? It's Christmas!" Hagrid said, somewhat baffled.

"Oh, our progress reports are fine," Harry lied, having seen the low mark he received in History of Magic, and how he failed miserably in Potions. "We're going to look up anything on Nicolas Flamel," he added, point-blankly.

At this, Hagrid's jovial expression dropped.

Unless of course, you're willing to share with us?" Ron asked with a raise of a brow.

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, pushing the tree's weight to his left shoulder.

"No, yer not gettin' anythin' outta me. I told you to jus' drop it," he finally said and continued along his way.

"Can't say his reaction surprises me," Hermione said with a gentle shake of her head.

Together they all walked to their table to eat lunch. They had a lot cut out for them.

Ever since Hagrid unintentionally let slip Nicolas Flamel, they had been hard pressed to find out as much as they could. The books so far they looked through proved unhelpful, and the library was filled with thousands of books, hundreds of narrow aisles and shelves that dwarfed them by what seemed like hundreds of feet. With no leads, they were searching almost blind. However, if they ever wanted to find out what Snape was after, they couldn't dawdle.

Cosette's first introduction to the holiday season occurred as she made her way to lunch, and was the sight of Quirrell scampering and whimpering in from the courtyard, hands holding his turban in place as he was being chased by what looked like an angry snowman, brandishing its snowy head as if it were about to pitch it like a football.

She watched for a bit before shrugging and continuing on her way to the Great Hall. She had entered the Great Hall quite shocked at how decorated it was. The staff had really gone all out in making the festive cheer encumber the room. Even the tables were decorated, covered with ivy leaves and candy canes, and she noticed with some distaste, that many of the boys had charmed the mistletoe to hover over their heads as they approached certain girls, puckering their lips out for a smooch.

Cosette, despite her first thoughts of Hogwarts, was glad to be staying put. The idea of returning to the Dursleys made her stomach clench with dread, remembering how the previous year, both she and her brother had spent it locked under the stairs, as the Dursley's had "forgotten" to unlock it that day. It was also relieving to know that a lot of the students were leaving for the holiday, which meant she would have the probably have the dorm alone, or so she hoped, unbothered and bully-free. She eagerly signed the sheet professor Snape hung in the dorm room for anyone staying put for Christmas.

Seeing as today marked the beginning of break, and therefore no more classes, Cosette quickly finished her lunch and made her way back down to her dorm to evaluate her grades. They had been passed out at breakfast, and she had been too nervous and scared to look at them before with so many witnesses. Her first thought was to look at them in the library, where she could find any books to bring up the grades she knew she was doing terrible in. However, she rethought it, remembering how she was seeing more and more of her brother there recently. Lately, her brother and his two friends –who he had become stuck to the hip with since Halloween—had taken to spending an awful amount of time there. For some reason, it bothered her. Since she was still not really speaking to him, she was forced to give up one of her favorite studying places because he suddenly developed the need to research something. She briefly wondered what it was he was looking for so desperately.

When she finally got to her dorm room, Cosette was easily ignored by the students lazing about, and made it to her bed. She shivered slightly; it was freezing there in the dungeons and all the other students had magicked their beds to the stone hearth to be as close to the omnipresent fire as possible. The girls had picked on her and told her she was not allowed to do the same, and as such had positioned their beds in the most space consuming way possible.

She got into her cold bed and closed the curtain, took a deep breath and unfolded her progress report.

Her grades stared back at her, flat, unmoving and insensitive.

The grading system was very different from muggle schools and at first glance, she didn't know what she was looking at. Then, she noticed the grading system printed on the top of her parchment.

O = outstanding 90%-and up  
>E = exceeds expectations 80%-89%<br>A = acceptable 70%-79%  
>P = poor 60%-69%<br>D = dreadful 50%-59%  
>T = troll 0%-49%<p>

Her first two classes' grade's glared at her angrily in thick, bold black ink. The letter D was marked next to Astronomy. She knew she would have done badly in it, for she never studied for it, favoring her other subjects instead, and was often found falling asleep during the midnight class. Defense was the next class, which didn't look much better with a barely passable P. Charms and Herbology were tied with an A, History of Magic got an E, and most surprising to her, her top grades were Transfigurations and Potions.

She stared at it for a while, wondering how she could have gotten an O in both of those classes. She much expected herself to get an O in History of Magic. It was the easiest and required no class participation. Yet, her two favorite subjects, the ones she hoped to do well in, shined forth. Cosette smiled to herself. She briefly wondered how she could have gotten so high in Potions class, since she clearly was missing something in the practical brewing process, but supposed her written assignments must have made up for it. For once, reading seemed to help her with something.

Relieved somewhat that her grades weren't a total failure; Cosette put away her parchment and decided to get a head start on the homework assigned over break. After close to an hour, she gave up on trying to improve her Defense grade and instead gave a curious glance at her book, The Exposition of Hieroglyphic Figures. Flopping her homework aside, she picked up the volume. The book had made her severely frustrated, and kept her up many a night with her Transfigurations book. She skimmed down the pages fruitlessly, trying to grasp anything that would stick into her mind. She briefly skimmed down a page explaining the "functional perimeters in the alchemical substance able to transmute base metal deposits and their components into other differing materials, in both congruent and incongruent matter." It also stated that it could "confer youth and longevity and restore into a state of healthiness and mortal wellbeing." The rest of the page was filled with complicated mathematical equations and philosophical analogies that went right over her head. The only thing she got from the page was that it was a magical rock called the "Philosopher's stone."

She frowned, closing the book and putting it aside, saddened that her apparently good grade offered her no aid. She briefly wondered if that was what the dog was guarding on the third floor, for it sounded awfully valuable. Shrugging, Cosette went on to her Transfigurations homework.

Harry had spent the remainder of the afternoon in the library with Ron and Hermione. So far, they had found no leads on anything about Nicolas Flamel, or what Snape could be after.

Suddenly, Ron's red head popped from one of the aisle.

Hey! I think I found….no, no, it's Merv Flamel, never mind."

The three grumbled at their own disappointment before continuing. It wouldn't be long until Madam Pince would kick them out. None of them had bothered about asking the librarian if she knew of a book, for fear that she might let something slip to Snape. Sure enough, the minute the clock chimed 8:30, Madam Pince, face pinched and neck bent like a vulture, screeched from behind her desk.

"Out! Get out! Library is closed!"

Hastily, she got up with a speed Harry was not aware such an old woman could have, and shooed them out of her library. Madam Pince was known for being very careful about her books, almost to an unhealthy degree. She watched and coveted them like a buzzard would circle a rotting cadaver.

"Well… so much for that idea," Ron grumbled before yawning.

"You two will continue looking over Christmas break, right?" Hermione asked them as they began walking up to the common room.

"Yeah…" Ron agreed, but not at all sounding thrilled about the idea of spending his holiday cooped up in the library. "Though I don't think Pince will let us into the restricted section…"

The thought of any of them asking the old crone made them all shiver with dread, fearing her ear-splitting shrieking. The restricted section was an area of the library separate from the rest. It had information on some very nasty dark magic, and was only allowed to be used by students who had a written note from a teacher explaining that they needed to study it for academic reasons.

They made their way into the common room and sat down in front of the fire. Hermione said that they should get a head start on their homework and after much groaning, Harry reluctantly pulled his essay due to Snape out and began writing.

The next morning, Ron and Harry went down to breakfast, noting the absence of Hermione. The two shrugged and ate breakfast; staying afterwards for a game of wizard's chess; like normal chess, but the pieces were all alive and you commanded them as you would an army. Trust was a major factor; the pieces themselves had to trust you as their commander. Harry had always been half decent at chess, but this added a whole new challenge, and Ron was already excellent at it, though Harry was determined to get better.

Hermione then walked briskly into the Hall, carrying her trunk. She paused and eyed the game as Ron's queen tackled Harry's knight. Both were fighting and punching each other brutally with their tiny stone fists. Hermione turned away in distaste and instead addressed the two players of the game.

"Well I'm all packed, and you best find some information on Nicolas Flamel. I'm willing to bet at this point that he's in the restricted section."

"Well we have no chances of ever finding him then, do we?" Ron asked rhetorically.

"It's a possibility. My advice is to figure out a way to look through the restricted section, see if you can find someone with permission who is willing to help you. Careful though, you won't want Percy seeing anything, he studies in the restricted section from time to time."

Ron simply nodded, and removed Harry's knight from the board.

"In any case, happy Christmas," Hermione said as she turned briskly away.

Ron and Harry both felt like they were forgetting something as they gave a few grunts in response to Hermione.

"Didn't she say she was packed for something?" Ron asked as they left the Great Hall.

It was then that Harry remembered.

"She's leaving to go home… and we didn't even really say goodbye." Harry felt guilty, though Ron simply shrugged and they walked back up to the common room, intending to laze the day away.

When Christmas morning came, Harry was awoken by Ron's incessant shaking.

"Wake up Harry! It's Christmas!"

Harry sat up groggily and looked about; noting that Ron was wearing what looked like a handmade maroon jumper with a big R stitched in the front.

"Happy Christmas Harry," Ron said with a grin.

"Happy Christmas Ron," Harry responded.

Harry eyed his friend's choice in wardrobe.

"What are you wearing?"

Ron looked down at his shirt, as if he suddenly wished the sweater would be gone.

"Oh… my mum makes us Weasleys one every Christmas…mine are always maroon though…" he grumbled with distaste. "She sent you one, too I think."

Harry's face softened.

"She…sent me a gift?" he asked astounded.

"Well, yeah, she must have heard how rough you've had it… I suppose she sent one to your sister, too."

Harry got up and wandered his way into the common room where a roaring fire was burning and a large Christmas tree stood.

Sure enough, like Ron told him, a package was neatly placed under the tree with Harry's name written on it, and to his utter surprise, it wasn't the only one.

"I've… I've got more than one…"

Harry was amazed. He had never been given so much before in his entire life. The sight astonished him and he was left partially at a loss of words. Ron gave him a nudge towards his pile of presents.

"Well go on, open them!" he said as he tore into a box of Every Flavor Beans.

The first gift was the one Mrs. Weasley had sent him. Just as he pulled it out of the wrapping, there was a thunderous rampage from the other side of the common room. Outside came Fred and George, skipping down towards them with great grins on their faces, and as Harry noted, they were also wearing Weasley jumpers in matching brown, with the initials F and G on them.

"Happy Christmas Ronald!" the boys said in unison, and grabbed hold of him from either side. Ron struggled fruitlessly as the twins, one on either side, gave him two kisses on either cheek.

"Eck! Get offa' me!"

The twins laughed and released their youngest brother, who began wiping his face as if he could catch a disease, and glared angrily at them.

"Happy Christmas there, Harry," Fred said with a grin, and Harry was relieved not to receive the same greeting they favored Ron with.

"Happy Christmas," Harry responded with a timid smile, holding the sweater loosely in his grip.

"Oy look! Harry got a Weasley sweater, too!" Fred announced, pointing to the deep navy jumper.

"Go on, put it on," George elbowed him with a cheeky grin.

Harry threw it over his head and was amazed at how warm it was, and how right it fit.

"Looking sharp!" Fred whistled.

"Yeah… mum obviously puts more time and effort into making these for strangers than her own beloved children," George mumbled.

"He doesn't have his initials though," Ron observed, looking envious.

"Mum obviously thinks Harry can remember his name. Not like we have that problem, ey Forge?" Fred said.

"Right you are, Gred!" George returned.

Harry smiled at the twins' behavior, while Ron simply munched on his candy, looking at the twins as if they were being far too inappropriate. Harry then returned to the package from Mrs. Weasley and upon closer inspection found a small box containing homemade fudge. Harry smiled and took a piece of the fudge and ate it. It tasted amazing.

"At least his isn't maroon…I _hate_ maroon…" Ron muttered.

Before either twin could say a word however, the common room was invaded once again by Percy, who looked over at everyone and offering a polite, "Happy Christmas."

The twins responded then with a harsh, "Hey! He's not wearing his Weasley sweater! Get him!"

Percy, utterly terrified at the prospect of behind tackled by his quickly approaching brothers, fled the room. Fred and George went running after him and disappeared into the dorm. The sound of grunting, crashing and laughing could be heard.

Ron wasn't even curious about the display, and had turned back to his junk food, as if this sort of behavior was an everyday occurrence.

"Why don't you open up your other gifts, Harry?" Ron suggested, pointing to his small pile.

Harry, who was increasingly curious about the contents of his gifts, and very eager, offered no complaint. The first one he picked up was a small package with a rather ripped up looking paper, as if it was just a piece of scrap paper. To Harry's surprise, it was from the Dursleys. It had nothing written on it other than their names, not even a "Happy Christmas." Opening the gift somewhat warily, Harry found himself holding a pair of grey, wooly tomb socks that could have belonged to no other then Vernon Dursley. The next gift was from Hagrid, and contained a hand carved wooden flute. When Harry tried to blow in it however, he learned that he didn't seem to have enough musical ability to make it sound like anything other than a dying animal.

The last gift was the largest. Lifting it, he found that it was virtually weightless. There was no card on the outside, so Harry simply opened the wrapping to find out what lay inside.

Removing the packaging, a velvet material met his fingers. Pulling the fabric forward, a cascade of silvery grey tumbled forth in a silky wave that resembled water. The material seemed to shimmer.

Ron's mouth gaped open.

"I know what that is!" he blinked in disbelief. "But who sent you it?"

Harry, not knowing what it even was, shrugged. Looking over the packaging, he noted a small note had fallen out. Eagerly he leant down and picked it up. The words were written in a loopy script Harry couldn't identify.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. _

_Use it well._

"It doesn't say…" Harry could hardly process what the note said, for he was stuck on the words, "your father left this in my possession…" This fabric, which Harry ascertained to be a cloak, belonged to his father? A warmth like no other encompassed him. Never had one single object ever felt so important to him before. This was a treasure, something that belonged to his father, and was now his. Yet, who could have sent it to him?

"Well…put it on, why don't you?" Ron edged eagerly.

Harry, eager to see what he would look like in the cloak, swished it proudly over his shoulders, feeling the light material rest on his shoulders and drape over him. Ron's eyes went even wider.

"Bloody hell, Harry! I wish I had an invisibility cloak!"

Harry, somewhat confused by his friend's statement, looked down at his body, only, it wasn't there. Wide eyed, Harry panicked for a brief second, wondering what had happened to him. Rushing over to a mirror, Harry stared at himself, yet, could only see his head, floating in midair as if suspended by an invisible thread. His torso, from where the material touched, was gone completely.

"I'm invisible!" Harry uttered in surprise.

"Hey Harry, you think I could borrow it at one point?" Ron asked eagerly, eyes shining with awe and excitement.

"What for?" Harry asked.

Ron's face suddenly peeked red.

"Um… no reason…" he timidly looked away, squirming.

This cloak was incredible. With it, the entire castle was now at his fingertips. He could go anywhere at his leisure, and not worry about curfew or prowling teachers. The answer to figuring out what Snape was after on the third floor was now in his grasp.

Cosette woke up Christmas day with a shiver. It was freezing in the dungeons, and even with the enchanted fireplace, Cosette's bony physique offered very little warmth. She got up and noted how empty the dorm room was. Pansy Parkinson and Camille Nott left, leaving her and Millicent Bulstrode alone in the dorm. It was just her luck however, that of all the houses, it seemed that the Slytherin house had the highest number of students staying behind during holiday. She couldn't quite understand why, but it seemed like most of the snobby rich ones like Malfoy and Nott had gone home. Still, even with the number of purebloods gone, Cosette could probably count on about half the house still there. Cosette crept out of bed and made to get dressed. Seeing as Nott and Parkinson were not present, she didn't have to obsess about her cleanliness in fear that they would think she was dirty, and so she skipped taking a shower. The prospect was too cold, and in all honesty, Cosette still wasn't used to showering every day. Bathing was not something she was in the habit of doing, thanks to the Dursleys, and her own childish reluctance of getting clean was still present. The only reason she did it at Hogwarts was too keep her classmates from picking on her.

After getting dressed in a rush and trying to push her knotty mess of hair out of her face, Cosette went to breakfast. The tables were still decorated for the holiday, mounds of bacon and hotcakes filled plates and the waffles were topped with powdered sugar. She took something to eat and watched as the kids were playing with a few Christmas Crackers on the tables. She didn't know much about these in the muggle world, only that silly party gifts and other cheap things came out when pulled. It seemed that wizarding crackers were much different. After seeing how one student got a large stuffed bear and singing music box, Cosette hesitantly reached for one and pulled it open. Out sprung a pair of magical binoculars, colorful confetti and three white mice. Cosette screamed as the rodents scampered over her lap and she jumped from the table, fleeing the Great Hall and leaving her gift for one of her laughing housemates to claim.

Cosette hadn't realized she had gifts until Millicent Bulstrode hesitantly approached, wondering if she wanted her gifts or if she was giving them away. She walked over to the small pile in the corner. She marveled at them for a moment, as if unsure if what she was seeing was real. Who would have sent her something? Biting her lip, she eagerly reached out to one. With little finesse, she all but ripped the paper covering the first gift within her reach. Inside was a dark green jumper and a note from Mrs. Weasley. Cosette thought fondly about the mother she met by the train. It was incredibly nice of her to think about someone like Cosette. She must have known how cold it was in the dungeons and how ill-prepared Cosette was for it. She also noted the box of homemade fudge and decided to save that for later. It certainly smelled wonderful, and despite not knowing Mrs. Weasley very well, she seemed kindly enough not to booby trap her food like the people of the wizarding world seemed to have an obsession with doing. She really couldn't understand the appeal of a chocolate frog that wriggled and jumped as you ate it.

Putting the package down, she reviewed the other gifts. Next she found one from Hagrid, which was a wooden flute. She eyed it for a second, wondering if she had any talent in music. After telling herself she didn't, Cosette put it down and reached for a smaller gift that seemed to be wrapped in muggle newspapers. Upon seeing the name Dursley on it, she threw it from her hands like it burned her, right into the fireplace, watching it burn for countless seconds. She didn't want anything from them. Whatever it was, it was probably made to poke fun at her anyway, or maybe it was diseased.

The next one she noted was the heaviest. It was large and rectangular. Thumbing the Christmas card, Cosette grew excited when the words: "I hope you will join me for tea this afternoon. Merry Christmas, Professor Grimsdyke" greeted her. Remembering the teacher who she often visited, Cosette ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside were three books bound in leather. Cosette picked up the first one and read the title: '_The Three Mothers Vol. 1 Mater Suspiriorum' by D. Argento.'_ The other two were the sequels, and browsing through the first, she learned that they were wizard's fantasy novels about three evil witches. Placing the books down and making a mental note to thank Professor Grimsdyke when she did go for tea, Cosette suddenly felt bad for not having anything to give to the teacher. She wasn't in the habit of giving gifts, and she didn't have anything remotely appropriate. If she didn't return the favor, would Professor Grimsdyke take offense? Would she stop liking her? The nagging feeling of being rude by not returning the favor was strong, and she was mentally kicking herself until she remembered something. Rushing back to her dorm and throwing open her trunk, Cosette dug in it for several seconds until she pulled out the still scrambled Rubik's cube she took from Dudley. It wasn't much, but she hoped Professor Grimsdyke would like it. Placing it down by her other gifts as to not forget it, Cosette reused one of the bows from a previous gift and looked over her last present.

The last gift she barely saw, for it was small and she almost overlooked it. Reaching down Cosette held up the package that just barely fit into the palm of her hand. The box was brown and held together by a red bow.

Pulling the bow free, Cosette hesitantly opened the box. A small, oval locket was inside, resting on a bed of foam. Cosette gasped. Her fingers picked up the locket, and she then ran them over the crest carved into the gold, consisting of an elegantly engraved P. It was beautiful. The gold was finely polished and the piece of jewelry looked almost antique, and very valuable. She hastily turned the locket over in her hands before quickly finding the latch that opened it. Inside was a small picture of a happily smiling couple. The woman had dark red hair and deep forest green eyes. Her face was heart-shaped and Cosette never thought she'd seen a more beautiful woman. The man, who had his arms around the woman, laughing slightly, looked much like an older version of her brother with his messy black hair, pointed nose, but he had hazel eyes instead of Harry's green. Her parents, she noted. These were her parents. The emptiness in her heart was somewhat filled as she looked upon her parents for the first time. She had never seen them before, and her eyes involuntarily misted. She suddenly felt at peace, like she now could accept that her parents were real, and now even though they were gone, she at least had a piece of them with her, and that was enough for her. She quickly unlatched the locket and fumbled to put it around her neck. It took her several, frustrated minutes to secure it, not used to jewelry at all, but after she did so, the locket hung elegantly from her neck.

Looking over at the box once more, Cosette noted a small note inside. Picking it up, she noted the feminine handwriting before breezing over the short few words.

_ This Handsome locket belonged to your mother and was meant to be passed unto you when you were ready. Treasure it always, and may it lead always wherever you need to go._

Puzzled by what the note meant, and even more by who gave it to her, Cosette pocketed the note and touched the locket with her fingers; a rare smile tipped the corner of her mouth.

Harry was talking to Ron about all the things they could do now that they had this invisibility cloak and Ron strangely seemed to have his own ideas and was rather disinterested in Harry's suggestions.

"Just think, we could go anywhere in the castle!" Harry said excitedly.

"Yeah… anywhere…" Ron said automatically in a monotone voice as he looked over at the girls' bathroom.

"What's wrong with you? Aren't you excited about what we could do with an invisibility cloak?"

"Of course I am!" Ron said quickly.

Harry shrugged and continued his ramblings about where they could go.

"With all this unsupervised time we have on our hands, we'll find Flamel in no time."

Ron looked skeptically at his friend, unsure if the most obvious thing was really escaping him.

They again spent another happy day lazing around until the Christmas dinner, which was as usual, a feast in every meaning of the word. There was roast ham, turkey, goose, and plenty of roast beef to go around with sides of hearty mashed potatoes, gravy, brussel sprouts, hot bread rolls with options of redcurrant jelly, cranberry sauce and butter on the side. There were also plates of stuffing to fill in the gaps and finally buttered corn on the cob.

Ron seemed to completely forget about the invisibility cloak in the wake of all the food. Dumbledore was sipping a glass of pumpkin juice looking over all the students with the usual twinkle in his eye.

Cosette was glad to be able to eat in relative peace as most of the students were gone, and the majority of the Slytherins who picked on her were absent, and Aguillard, the one who would be the most disruptive, was forbidden to leave the common room except for classes and regular meals, thus, he had to take his Christmas meal in the common room. He was still running on his punishment for the stunt he pulled on Halloween, thanks to Snape's torturous suspension, and the angry Head of House had no desire for a reoccurrence of Halloween during Christmas. Cosette finished eating quickly and left to her common room as dessert came. She had grown rather distasteful of the desserts served at Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron both stuffed themselves full of the many assorted puddings and biscuits that had appeared before them before lazily getting up and walking back to their dormitories. There, Ron fell asleep almost instantly, but Harry remained wide awake, eager to try out his new cloak. After a bit, he got up out of bed and quietly picked up his invisibility cloak. He threw it over his shoulders; he could barely register the weight of the light fabric. He walked over to a mirror to observe with satisfaction his body had disappeared. He then reached up and threw the invisible hood over his head, turning himself completely invisible. Smiling to himself, though he could not see the smile in the mirror, Harry walked towards the door. He felt the cloak shift gently as he moved, adjusting to a size that fit him perfectly, a feature he was not aware the cloak had but was glad none the less that it did because he nearly tripped himself the first few steps.

Harry exited the common room, a disgruntled Fat Lady asking him to make himself known, but of course he didn't as he walked down the stairs trying to decide where he should go first. It was awfully cold in the castle, and one thing the cloak didn't do was protect one from the cold. Harry was glad he wore his Weasley sweater. He decided he might as well check the restricted section for signs of Nicolas Flamel. Harry entered the quiet and deserted library and headed straight for the restricted section which was separated from the rest of the library by a form of a tall indoor fence made of wood. Harry went to the door and pulled back the latch, which clicked loudly against the wood, echoing in the empty library. Harry froze, waiting and listening to hear if anyone was coming to investigate the noise. After standing in silence, the only person who came anywhere close to Harry was Peeves, who had evidently not heard the noise and was only there to disorganize the books. Peeves, of course, could not see Harry and left soon after his deed was done.

Finally Harry pushed the door open; it creaked loudly, but didn't give off as much noise as the latch. He waited in silence for anybody who heard the noise to make themselves known. When no one did, he entered the restricted section, his heart hammering in his chest with the sheer fact that he definitely shouldn't be here. It was thrilling in a way.

Harry began to browse up and down the aisle. There were many notable differences between the restricted section than the rest of the library. In the restricted section, all the volumes looked extremely old and worn, they were all chained to the bookshelf with sturdy looking locks that he was sure only Madam Pince and perhaps Dumbledore owned the keys to. So anything he read, he would have to read here, Harry thought briefly. He also noted that all the books seemed to be speaking in low whispers. He began to search for authors listed under N. He quickly found that the authors were listed by last name while searching the Ns, so he instead started searching the Fs.

"Faagan, O… Faalt, G… Famori, F…" Harry mumbled, going down the list until he came to a group of books whose authors started with the appropriate letters.

"Flakirk, X… Flalm, H… Flamel, N…" Harry stopped quite suddenly; he had found a Flamel with a first name beginning with N within minutes in here. He quickly drew the book from the shelf, and placed it on the table in front of him, the chain clanking against the wood surface.

Harry briefly noted that the whispers from the books seemed to get louder as he held the volume. He caressed the dusty cover briefly before opening the book to a random page. Almost immediately, the book began to shake and it let out a high pitched scream that Harry was certain someone in the castle would hear. Harry tried desperately to close the book, but the book was resisting, strongly. He finally gave up trying to close it and instead simply placed other books on top of it, hoping to muffle the scream. The only thing he gleamed from the book was that the author's name was Nehorai Flamel, not Nicolas. The attempts to muffle the screaming book worked, but barely. The small tower of books shook violently as the one below them continued to scream. After a bit, the others seemed to intentionally fall off, open, and issue their own screams. This was shortly followed by all the other books still in the shelves to begin screaming at the top of their papery lungs, and by the domino effect, soon all the books in the restricted section where screaming.

Harry panicked, wondering if there was something he could do. The noise was terrible and was sure to rouse every soul in the castle. Only one thought occurred to him: run and he did just that. He ran from the restricted section towards the exit to the library, but stopped short as he nearly ran into Filch, who was standing in the doorway, looking at the restricted section with a horrified expression. Harry remembered gratefully that he was invisible and allowed Filch to pass him before continuing out of the library.

He ran through the corridors, twisting this way and that. Not stopping until the noise and Filch was quite far behind him. He let out a sigh of relief, when out of nowhere came the loathsome figure of Professor Snape, making his way towards the library. Harry hid as quietly as he could in a corner as Snape passed him. Snape was about to round the corner when he froze. There was a whole five seconds where he just stood there, frozen midstride, and Harry's stomach flopped in dread. Then, Snape turned around and held his wand above his head.

"Lumos…" he said quietly as his wand lit up.

He scanned the hallway he had just walked down silently, as if he knew Harry was there, but his eyes couldn't prove it. It was several minutes before Snape put away his wand and continued up the hall.

Maybe I ought to hide somewhere a bit while this blows over, Harry thought to himself, and with that, he approached a doorway that led to a disused classroom. He found it to be locked but quickly remedied that with Alohomorah. He stepped into the frigid room, noting the open windows. Harry closed the door behind him, but was unsure of how to lock it. He didn't have the key, and in Charms, they hadn't gone over locking doors or unlocking doors yet. Harry closed the windows and threw the cloak off of himself as he looked around the room.

The room was completely empty, with the exception of an ancient looking mirror in a golden frame. The mirror dominated the room as it was enormous, taller than Hagrid even, and its frame was elegantly carved with a crown of minarets.

Harry curiously approached the mirror looking up at the top of the frame where letters were carved in. Harry read them and saw that they read: "_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_" in tall elegant letters.

Harry looked down, meeting his reflection's gaze in the glass. His reflection stared back at him, unchanged. Harry noticed with some interest that everything behind him seemed to be a foggy mist. He slowly began to see the outline of two people appear behind him. Shocked, Harry turned around to see who, but no one was there. Harry turned back towards the mirror slowly, realizing the mirror had magical qualities, and decided to wait patiently to see what it would tell.

The people in the mirror were slowly becoming more distinct, and more people were starting to show up behind them. It was with a gasp he seemed to realize who the people behind him were. One was a young woman, with dark red hair and vibrant emerald eyes; the other was a man with hazel eyes and a rather pointed face. A mess of black hair sat atop his head. The two of them were waving to him, and his reflection gave a wide smile. He looked at the woman, unsure if his guess of who they were was right. Several other people had materialized behind them. There was an old woman with bright green eyes smiling and nodding proudly, an old man stood by her side, and Harry noted that he and the old man had the same knobbly knees. Several other more youthful people stood all around, some with the same messy mop of black hair as he had, some with the same silky red hair the woman had, accompanied with the green eyes. Others still had blonde hair, much like his Aunt Petunia, though she was not among any of them.

It was then that Harry knew he was right. He looked up to the woman.

"Mum?" he asked the woman in the reflection.

She did not respond, only continued to wave. She placed her hand on the shoulder of Harry's reflection. Harry felt a gentle breeze touching his shoulder and turned once more to see if the window was still open. It was not, and what's more, Harry was surprised when he found the people in the mirror were not standing behind him as he expected them to be.

Harry turned back to the mirror and addressed the man standing there.

"Dad?"

Again there was no response. Harry reached out and touched the glass, helplessly. It was only then that he was aware of tears pouring down his face.

Harry was not sure how long he was standing there in front of the mirror, only that the sun had come up by the time he finally tore himself away from the mirror, after promising his return to everyone in it.

He crept back up to the common room hidden underneath the cloak, only now aware of how tired he was. When he got to his dormitory, Ron was already up and dressed. Harry gratefully entered the well heated room, after spending the night in the frigid cold. Harry put the cloak away and Ron then turned to him sharply.

"Alright there, Harry?" Ron yawned. "Sleep well? That was some food last night…"

Harry rather automatically agreed, not really sure why. He pretended to act refreshed and awake, as he changed into his day clothes. The first person he would tell would have to be Cosette; she's the first person that deserved to know, Harry thought briefly. He made his way down to breakfast with Ron, who only then noted how tired Harry seemed.

"You sure you're alright, Harry?" he said, his mouth stuffed with waffles and syrup.

Harry looked down at his own waffles which were elegantly topped with strawberries, whipped cream, powdered sugar, and maple syrup. He thought it over and figured that there couldn't be too much harm in telling Ron about the mirror. He could go there again tonight with Ron and Cosette.

It was then that Harry described the events of last night. He told Ron about how he roused the entire restricted section and hid in a classroom from Snape.

"What was Snape doing?"

"I don't know, I assumed he was patrolling the halls as usual, though it was kind of weird how suspicious he was despite me wearing the cloak."

"And also the fact that he was walking around half blind. You said that he only lit his wand when he sensed you hiding. To me, it sounds more like he was sneaking around oppose to patrolling."

"Yeah…" Harry thought back on the incident; it did seem a slight bit suspicious in hindsight.

"We better figure out what he's up to soon," Ron said. "Too bad the restricted section was another dead end, though it was still brilliant the way you made all the books scream like that and get away with it."

Harry almost forgot what he was originally talking about and there was long pause in which Ron shoveled food into his mouth before Harry remembered and continued. He told Ron how he hid in the deserted classroom and spotted the mirror, and then finally what happened when you looked into it.

"Blimey, your family is in the mirror?" Ron said gaping slightly.

"Yeah…" Harry said thinking back to the mirror.

"Huh, weird…" Ron said as he helped himself to three more waffles and some bacon.

"I can show you, tonight," Harry said, smiling a little.

Ron gulped slightly, he evidently did not fancy the idea of leaving his warm bed to walk through a freezing castle past curfew. However, he saw the gleam in his friend's eye and knew that it was rather important to him, so he sighed.

"Alright, I guess mate…"

"Cool," Harry responded.

He looked over at the Slytherin table, noting how of all the tables, it looked the fullest, and easily spotted his sister's vibrant red hair.

"Be right back," Harry said getting up to walk over to the table, Ron nodded his head.

He went over to where Cosette sat and sat down across from her. She was eating fairly well, considering. She looked up as Harry sat down, a smile playing across her face. Harry looked at her, he could not rightfully remember the last time he had seen her smile. He noted that she was wearing a Weasley sweater and she had a thin gold chain around her neck. She must have been as happy as he was to receive her unexpected gifts.

"Happy Christmas," Harry greeted.

"Happy Christmas," she replied.

"How are you?" Harry asked.

"I'm great."

"I see you got a Weasley sweater," Harry noted.

"A what?" Cosette asked looking puzzled.

"That's what Ron and his brothers call them. Their mum makes one for all of them every year. She was nice enough to make one for me, and I see she made you one as well."

"Oh…" Cosette said. She previously thought the sweater to be a solitary gesture of kindness, rather than some form of family tradition. All the same, it still felt nice because it meant that Mrs. Weasley was saying she is a welcome part of their family.

"In any case…" Harry continued.

"I also got a locket, though I don't know who sent it," Cosette interrupted.

"Neat…"

Cosette smiled brightly and drew the locket slowly and carefully from the inside of her sweater. She showed it to Harry, who marveled at its beauty. She then unlatched it and showed Harry the picture of their parents together. Harry instantly recognized the two of them from the mirror.

"That's our parents…" Harry said simply.

"Yeah," Cosette said smiling at the locket fondly. "The note said that the locket belonged to mum."

Harry eyed it, rather enviously, but he reminded himself that he had something that belonged to his father and this had been given to Cosette who had just as much right to it as he did. He briefly wondered if the anonymous sender of these gifts were one and the same, but quickly forgot about this as he continued.

"I have something really amazing to show you," Harry said. "Do you think you could meet me outside the library at 8:30?"

Cosette looked at him and nodded.

"Sure, but what for?"

"Just be there," Harry smiled as he got up and walked back over to Ron. Cosette nodded and finished cleaning her plate.

The day went by in a rather interesting fashion. The twins had spent nearly the whole day together. It was rather awkward because Ron was rather wary of Cosette, though Harry didn't seem to notice very much. Fred and George where extremely friendly when they met her.

"So you're Harry's twin?" George said.

"Yes…" Cosette replied shyly.

"Great pleasure to meet you," he said, exaggerating his excitement to meet her in every possible way. "I don't know what it's like to have a twin, but I'm sure it's amazing!" he said as he began to shake Cosette's hand.

Fred greeted her in a similar fashion, shaking the opposite hand.

Cosette looked between them, noting their identical appearance, unsure if they were joking about not being twins or not as she felt nothing would surprise her in the wizarding world at this point.

Around lunchtime, Cosette said she had someone she wanted to introduce Harry to. Harry, curious to meet some of Cosette's friends, eagerly followed. They went up the stairs and down a hallway to a classroom filled with books. Cosette walked briskly through this classroom and knocked on the door leading to the teacher's office and quarters. Harry recognized the person who answered as the pretty blonde woman he had seen in his encounter with Snape about his Quidditch book, and was reminded sorely of the fact that he never got that book back. Although instead of wearing the long green cocktail dress he had previously seen her in, she was wearing a bathrobe that was tide very loosely around her with the extremities being covered up with what looked like to Harry as fancy lace underwear with garters.

"Hello Professor Grimsdyke," Cosette greeted brightly.

"Why hello Cosette, I see you brought friends with you," she said, her eyes landing on Harry with a frown and a raised eyebrow as she scanned both him and Ron.

Harry involuntarily gulped; he had the strange feeling that this teacher didn't like him. Ron on the other hand, seemed to be spacing out, his jaw hanging limp.

"My brother and one of his friends, yes," Cosette responded before all three were invited warmly in.

It was very warm inside the office; a small sitting area was set up by the hearth which had a roaring fire going.

This was the only part of the office that seemed homely in some way; everything else was a strewn mess of the Professor's study. More bookshelves were in here, though these ones were half empty with other half of the volumes lying open in various places across the office. Complicated graphs and numerous pieces of parchment lay pinned to the walls and piled atop the desk. Other various magical items lay strewn across the room including in the corner what looked like some form of a chemistry set which was bubbling with some kind of potion in its many twisted glass tubes. The last notable feature of the room was a door opposite the one they had come in, which Harry assumed must lead to the Professor's chambers. She excused herself briefly into this room to fetch a more covering robe.

"Sit, down, make yourself at home, I apologize for the mess; I got up this morning and just started working and didn't realize what time it was until you knocked," she said, as she reentered the room. "Although I did remember you were coming, and I prepared a little something," she continued as she went into the other room to come back with a platter bearing something Harry was not familiar with.

"Our lunch, spanakopita and mushroom and barley soup," she said indicating a large cauldron hanging over the fire.

With an oven-mitted hand she pulled the cauldron off the flame on the hinged arm it was hanging from. She placed a ladle in the bubbling broth and placed four bowls on the table, three by the seats in front of the couch and one by a tall handsome, Victorian style armchair. Grimsdyke bent over slightly as she smelled the soup. Ron shifted uncomfortably.

She then served each in turn a bowl of soup. Everyone was silent as she helped herself to a bowl and sat down in the arm chair. She crossed her legs and leaned back into the chair.

"So you are Harry Potter?" she said, addressing Harry suddenly.

Harry was still investigating the food skeptically, still wondering what it was. It looked a lot better than Hagrid's cooking, but that didn't really help if he didn't know what it was. He looked up suddenly, pretending to allow his soup to cool off he took a piece of what Grimsdyke called spanakopita and nibbled it politely, surprised to find it actually tasted pretty good.

"Erm, yeah," Harry said.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Grimsdyke said shortly as she took of spoonful of her soup.

"Sorry ma'am," Harry said swallowing his food. This professor seemed to have a way in her aura to get people to do as she said.

Ron had not stopped staring at Grimsdyke since he first laid eyes on her, he didn't even seem to notice there was food.

"Well yes, your sister has told me much about you. How are you finding Hogwarts so far?"

"It's wonderful," Harry answered immediately.

"I'm glad you are enjoying it," Grimsdyke said eating more of her soup.

"What about you?" Grimsdyke asked addressing Ron.

"What?" Ron asked somewhat dazed.

Ron's answer seemed to amuse Grimsdyke.

"How are you finding Hogwarts, Mr…?"

"Oh… Weasley, Ron Weasley," his face burned red. "It's alright I guess, not everything I expected… But its school I suppose."

Harry had to admit that he enjoyed all the food, but the conversation was rather awkward for him as after formal introductions, the conversation with Grimsdyke was hijacked by Cosette and the two talked, about books, of all things, and shared a few inside jokes, some apparently at the expense of Harry and Ron, both of whom felt rather intimidated as a result. It was very obvious that Cosette had made it a regular occurrence to visit the professor.

After lunch, Grimsdyke brought out a tray bearing tea, biscuits, angel food cake, a bowl of assorted berries, and some finger sandwiches. She placed the tray on the table by the hearth and it was only then that Ron seemed to notice the presence of food as he helped himself to a few biscuits and sandwiches.

"Shall I be mother?" Cosette offered politely.

Grimsdyke smirked and nodded as Cosette poured everyone a cup of tea. Ron gulped down the tea and helped himself to a piece of cake and the conversation turned awkward again as it became more between just Grimsdyke and Cosette.

After lunch they finally left, with all of them thanking Grimsdyke for the meal. Cosette stayed behind to properly thank her for her Christmas present and to hand off one of her own. Harry noticed how her face burned as she handed Grimsdyke a badly wrapped square of some sort and he briefly wondered what she had given her. As they started down the hallway, Cosette had a smile on her face, and seeing her happy made Harry feel much better. It seemed Cosette was starting to enjoy Hogwarts.

"So, what do you think of Professor Grimsdyke?" Cosette asked suddenly.

"She's great…" Ron immediately responded, a dreamy look on his face.

"What does she even teach?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering that she had not told them.

Cosette's face lit up.

"Oh! Spell Structure! It's a class where you learn to make your own spells, isn't that neat?"

Harry nodded his head, thinking that the idea of just waving your wand around and spouting words couldn't be the only way to make spells work.

Cosette's brows furrowed.

"Although, it's an elective class, so I can't take it until third year…" she sounded disappointed.

They made their way back up to the Gryffindor common room, and Cosette was surprised that Harry invited her in with them. She had never seen the inside of the Gryffindor common room, and the first thing she noted was how incredibly warm it was compared to the dungeons. Where the Slytherin common room was cold and dark, the Gryffindor common room was warm and bright. She couldn't help but feel somewhat envious. Why couldn't the dungeons be this nice? The inside decorations were very much in Gryffindor's favor. Reds and golds colored everything and the space as a whole felt more pleasant and welcoming.

They sat down on one of the red squishy armchairs in front of a giant Christmas tree, and Cosette couldn't help but feel insecure about being in "enemy territory." The Slytherins and Gryffindors were rivals, and she got yelled at for just sitting at the lion's table, how would she be treated if they knew she was in their common room?

Harry must have noticed her tenseness, for he sat next to her and smiled warmly, striking up a conversation. It was pleasant enough, and Cosette dearly missed having these small moments with her brother. She put her animosity on the shelf, enjoying spending what was the best Christmas of her life with her twin. Ron was spacing out a bit, not really aware of anything going on around him. Harry addressed him with a blank look.

"You with us, Ron?" he asked worriedly.

Ron blushed and shook his head, just in time to feel his twin brothers sit down next to them, joining their conversation.

"Oy, something the matter there, Ron?" George asked.

"Yeah, what has your head in the clouds?" Fred added.

Ron's face pinked.

"None of your business," he grumbled folding his arms.

"We just got back from meeting Professor Grimsdyke," Harry filled in, noting that the visit marked his friend's weird behavior.

Both twin's eyebrows rose clear to their hairlines.

"Ah… Grimsdyke," both twins said in unison, before wolf-whistling.

"I think Ron has finally noticed the female species… and what a delectable target I must add…" Fred grinned.

If possible, Ron's face turned a darker shade.

"Sh-shut up," Ron grumbled, pushing his brothers off of him. Looking just to his left, he noticed Cosette sitting there awkwardly and his eyes widened. Quickly, he stood up.

"Hey, that's right, you're a Slytherin; you're not supposed to be here," Ron observed, as if he hadn't realized that Cosette had followed them inside.

Fred and George suddenly gasped.

"Oh! You're right! Quick! Everyone, flip out right now!"

Both Fred and George suddenly got up and began screaming around the common room in circles, hands raised above their heads dramatically.

Harry covered his mouth to stifle a laugh and Ron looked thoroughly embarrassed at being made fun of by his brothers. Cosette was somewhat relieved that the Gryffindors weren't being pushy about her being there. The twins were rather lax when it came to her being a Slytherin, and while they seemed a bit too mischievous and obnoxious, they seemed to be alright.

The noise seemed to have alerted Percy, who came rushing out of his dorm like the common room was on fire.

"What is going on here?" he asked a stern look on his face as he surveyed the room.

"Eee! Look! It's a Prefect! Quick, everyone flip out right now!"

The twins continued to run about, and Percy looked beyond annoyed at what he believed to be incorrigible behavior, ignoring the chortling from Fred and George. When his eyes landed on Cosette, his face hardened.

"Only Gryffindor students are allowed in the common room," he stuck up his nose.

"Oh come on, Percy, lighten up," George stood next to the Prefect.

"Yeah, she's not doing any harm, besides," Fred added.

"The Gryffindor common room could use with come new coloring," George commented, gesturing to Cosette's Slytherin green jumper. Cosette in turn blushed.

Percy's lips pinched in thought.

"Very well, just make sure she's out of here by supper," he said before turning back around and heading back into his dorm room. Fred and George made faces at his back as he left.

The day passed by too fast for Harry. It seemed like he and Cosette had all but made up, however there was still an unspoken awkwardness between them. Harry was smart enough to know to stay clear of topics like Potions class and his accusations about Snape and Nicolas Flamel. Harry had even suggested to Cosette to eat with them at the Gryffindor table. Cosette at first adamantly refused, but after Harry explained to her that no Gryffindors were there except himself and the Weasleys, she hesitantly accepted the invitation.

After the meal, Harry convinced Cosette to follow him back up to the common room, for he was excited to show her the invisibility cloak he had gotten for Christmas. Since she had been with him all day, there was no need to worry about meeting in front of the library. Excitedly, he told her to wait in the common room as he retrieved it from his dorm.

When Harry returned, he held out the cloak, smiling brightly.

"Look! Look what I got!" The smile on his face nearly reached to his ears.

"What is it?" Cosette asked curiously.

Harry held it out for her to touch, which she did tentatively.

"It's an invisibility cloak!" Harry told her.

"A what?" Cosette's eyes opened in disbelief.

"An invisibility—oh here, look."

Harry all at once threw the cloak over his shoulders. His body vanished under the material in a blink of an eye. Cosette's eyes widened.

"You…you…"

"Isn't it amazing?" Harry asked.

Cosette didn't answer him, oddly. She just stared at him with a little frown on her face, her fingers twiddling with the chain around her neck.

"Yeah, it's great Harry," Cosette responded in a soft tone.

Harry didn't understand his sister's sudden sour mood, or why she looked so disappointed and upset with him. Did he do something wrong?

"Is this what you came to show me?" she asked, turning away from him, "Because I don't want to miss curfew because of your stupid cloak."

"It's not stupid," Harry defended. "It's from our father."

This didn't seem to make Cosette fell any better. If anything, she seemed to get even more upset.

"I'm going to bed," she muttered quickly walking towards the porthole, clutching the chain on her neck until her fingers turned white.

"Wait, I still have something to show you," Harry persisted. He didn't know why she was so suddenly angry, but hopefully seeing their parents would make her feel better.

"I thought that this would be enough…" she grumbled, sniffing slightly.

"Here, follow me," Harry reached for her hand, and Cosette flinched slightly.

"What's wrong now?" Harry asked, getting somewhat upset himself.

Cosette still refused to look at him.

"Nothing, let's just go, I don't care," she murmured.

Harry stood there for a short time, unsure how to take his sister's mood change. He took a breath to calm his nerves to keep from yelling at his sister and ruining something that was meant to be special for him and Cosette.

"I asked Ron to come too, let me just grab him and we'll go."

Cosette didn't respond to him, and whatever cheer they felt that day seemed to be washed away over something as simple as a cloak.

When Harry returned with Ron, the red-head was smiling.

"We all should get under the cloak, it's close to curfew, and I don't think we're supposed to be in that classroom, anyway."

The three students huddled together under the cloak rather uncomfortably. Cosette seemed to be trying to crawl into herself, arms pulled so tightly to her body as if touching either boy would cause her physical injury. They made an awkward advance down the hallway until they came to the door that held within the magic mirror.

Harry noticed by the time they got into the room that Cosette was shivering. Pulling off the cloak, Harry ushered both of them towards the mirror. Ron was beyond freezing as he looked around the room; walking away from Harry, he went to close the opened windows.

Harry didn't respond to Ron walking away and instead smiled broadly at Cosette and pointed to the mirror.

"You brought me here to see a mirror?" Cosette asked blankly.

"No no, just look in the mirror."

Cosette stepped forward and swept her eyes up and down the glass.

"I only see us," Cosette said.

"Look in properly," Harry encouraged, pushing her forward and standing next to the mirror to watch her reaction.

Several moments of silence passed. He watched as Cosette took several looks behind her, then back at the mirror, then behind her again, before she spoke again.

"I still just see us," Cosette said looking at Harry blankly. "Only we're a bit younger and we're playing together, the way we used to when we got that chance at the Dursleys."

Harry looked at her, puzzled and peered around; the mirror reflected his image back normally.

"Is this all?" Cosette said somewhat impatiently.

"Don't you see our parents?" Harry asked.

"No?" Cosette said sounding confused. "Should I be?"

"Well… I don't know…"

"Can I go back now?"

Before Harry could answer, Cosette was pushed out of the way by Ron who wanted a turn to look in the mirror. He stared at it a moment and as he did, his face began to light up.

"That's me… Only I look older."

Harry again, confused, peered into the mirror as Cosette silently and slowly exited the room. He was torn between going after her and staying with Ron. Somewhat irritated at his sister's behavior, he chose to stay with Ron.

"You see yourself, also?" Harry asked, not understanding why everyone was seeing different things.

"Yeah! Only… Only I'm Head Boy! And bloody hell, I'm Captain of the Quidditch team! My mum's there also…" Ron's face burned slightly at this last part. "Harry, do you think this mirror tells the future?"

"How can it?" Harry asked melancholic, "Both my parents are dead."

Ron didn't seem to completely take in Harry's answer. He was confused and hurt by everything that happened this night, and suddenly felt drained of energy.

"Come on Ron, we should be getting back," Harry tried to pull Ron away, but he resisted.

"Wait a second; I just want a minute longer…"

"I don't think that's a good idea…" Harry trailed off.

Eventually he managed to pull Ron away from the mirror, but Ron's face still reflected the giddiness the mirror gave to him. As they turned back around to leave, Harry began looking for his cloak and suddenly began to panic.

"My cloak!" Harry announced in a startled fright. "It's gone!"

Both boys began searching frantically before it was plainly obvious that the cloak was no longer there.

"I left it right here!" Harry pointed anxiously by the mirror.

Suddenly, Ron's face brightened, and then darkened.

"Cosette! I bet you she swiped it!"

For a split second, Harry thought it wasn't possible, until he remembered the envious, hurtful glances Cosette kept throwing Harry and the cloak when he showed it to her. All of a sudden, Harry felt rage at his sister.

"Now what are we going to do?" Harry said anxiously.

"We have to get back to the common room, fast. If we're caught out of bed…" Ron took a nervous gulp.

This turned out to be a terrible idea. Not only did the trip to the mirror end horribly, but Cosette stole his cloak as well and left him and Ron to get caught after curfew.

"We just have to try not to get caught…"

Anxiously the boys headed out, trying to stay close to the shadows and flinching at every creak they made. They made it almost to the second floor when, out of the shadows, a long black figure emerged like a swooping bat.

"Well, well, well. Caught after hours, Potter? Your father would be proud."

A sudden light flicked on from behind them, illuminated the dark figure of Professor Snape. Harry's blood ran cold at the sight of Snape and his victorious smirk. Both he and Ron froze in terror. Suddenly it occurred to Harry that they were both alone in the corridor with Snape, who could very well try to kill him again.

"That will be 50 points from Gryffindor, for thinking you two could sneak your way about the castle."

Before Harry could argue the outrageous sum of points, Snape had grabbed both him and Ron by the collar of their shirts and began dragging them through the corridor. Harry struggled fruitlessly to break free, fearing for his life. They weren't released until they were in Snape's office. He practically threw them into the room and they stumbled to their feet.

"Sit," Snape commanded coldly.

Both boys obeyed wordlessly.

They watched as Snape scribbled something on a piece of paper, and threw it into the hearth. The fire inside exploded into emerald green flames and Harry flinched slightly at the sudden occurrence. Snape then placed both his hands on his desk and surveyed Harry darkly. Harry meanwhile took to staring at the floor, he had the funny feeling Snape could read his mind through eye contact and it was quite unnerving, especially given the present situation.

Harry was beginning to wonder what the professor's next move would be when the door opened and in came a very irritated looking McGonagall.

"I got your letter, Severus," McGonagall said holding up the piece of paper that Snape had cast into the fire moments before.

"Yes, I caught Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley here out of bed, no doubt looking for trouble."

"Well I would say they found it!" McGonagall said curtly, her arms crossed around her tartan robe. Harry gulped.

"I think a week's worth of detention is warranted."

"You worry about punishing your students, I'll worry about mine," McGonagall said. She was not in one of her better moods and Harry was beginning to second guess whose hands they were better off in.

Snape remained quiet as McGonagall surveyed both Harry and Ron with anger burning in her eyes. She was about to speak when the door opened once more.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as the white beard and twinkling blue eyes of Professor Dumbledore glided into the room.

"Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall said her voice devoid of its previous anger.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Professor Dumbledore said with a warm smile on his wrinkled face. "By any chance, do you know where the fourth floor lavatory has moved to? I can't seem to find it."

"I can't be sure…" McGonagall said seeming somewhat flustered. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice however, as his twinkling eyes landed on Ron and Harry.

"Ah, there you are Harry, Ron," Dumbledore said, addressing them.

Harry was taken aback; the Headmaster of the school had just addressed him directly. He was not sure how to respond, so he simply looked back at the professor.

"Sorry for keeping you up so late past curfew," Dumbledore said, giving them a small hint of a wink. "It's amazing how time flies when you're having fun."

It was then that Dumbledore looked about the room, his eyes landing on Snape who stared back with an expression of pure abhorrence.

"Though I dare say visiting other professors for the evening isn't very appropriate given that I asked you to return to your dormitories," Dumbledore said.

"We were heading back to our dormitories, but Snape grabbed us out of the hallway and brought us here," Ron said suddenly, hoping that the Headmaster had something in his mind.

"Professor Snape to you Mr. Weasley," McGonagall corrected quickly.

Dumbledore gave out a soft chuckle as if he suddenly remembered a very funny joke.

"Oh dear, it seems there has been a rather rude misunderstanding," Dumbledore said. "You see Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were having tea with me shortly after dinner and we lost track of time. I had sent them to return to their common room as I wandered about looking for the lavatory, the one that changes location from time to time on the fourth floor, you know the one. Well in any case, I relieve both of you the responsibility of having to punish these two," Dumbledore said turning to McGonagall. "Lemon Drop?"

Both professors stared at Dumbledore with disbelieved expressions on their faces.

"No thank you," McGonagall responded tersely, her face forming into a slight frown. "If that will be all then, professors, I think I shall take my leave. Good evening."

In a flurry of robes, their Head of House left, leaving only Dumbledore and Snape, the latter of which was glaring indignantly at the elderly wizard. Harry and Ron shared a glance. Did the Headmaster of the school just get them off the hook; did he, in fact, just _lie_ for them?

"Well, is that all, Severus, or was there something else you needed to discuss with these young Gryffindors?"

Snape had a vein pulsing on his pale temple, and his fingers gripped the desk until they were white, however, his face remained cold and impassive.

"No, that will be all," he replied through clenched teeth.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Now if you don't mind, I will escort these two back to their dormitory to hopefully assure they aren't diverted again."

Both Ron and Harry needed no further reason to get as far away from Snape as they could, eagerly fleeing the room without a backwards glance at the glowering professor. Harry made special care not to turn back and look at Snape because he didn't think he could keep the smug grin off his face.

The next day, Harry tried to spot his sister, but couldn't seem to find her anywhere. He had no doubts that she was hiding from him under his own invisibility cloak, and the thought angered him. However, despite not having the protection of his father's cloak, Harry still couldn't beat away the urge to go to the mirror yet again. This time, Harry had decided to go right after dinner, so he couldn't get in trouble for being out after curfew, and only had to hide when he approached the room itself.

Finding himself in front of the mirror felt like he was coming home again. His family was eagerly awaiting him with warm smiles and gentle faces. He didn't know how long he spent staring at the mirror until he heard a familiar voice.

"Back again, Harry?"

The voice startled him and he turned around abruptly. There, standing just next to the open windows of the classroom, was Albus Dumbledore.

"I see that you, like many before, has discovered the delights of the mirror of Erised," Dumbledore said, walking slowly towards Harry.

Harry felt the knot in his stomach unclench as he realized that it was Dumbledore, who did not seem remotely angry with him for being out past curfew.

"I trust that by now you realize what it is that the mirror does," Dumbledore said surveying Harry somewhat seriously.

Harry was silent, he was confused on that, it seemed to show different things for everyone and Harry was genuinely lost on this. Dumbledore seemed to notice his confusion because after a short pause, he spoke again.

"I'll give you a hint. The happiest man in the world could look into the mirror and see himself, exactly how he is."

Harry thought over these words, thinking for a moment.

"So… It shows us what we want."

"Yes… and no," Dumbledore responded cryptically. "It shows us nothing less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. For example, your friend Ronald Weasley, who has many older brothers for his family to compare his success to, sees himself standing tall with many accomplishments and a mother that could not be prouder of her son." He surveyed Harry for a moment before continuing. "You on the other hand, have never known your family, and you look into the mirror and see them all standing beside you."

"What about Cosette? She didn't see any of them," Harry said quickly.

"No? What did she see?" Dumbledore said simply.

"Well, she saw the two of us playing together at the Dursleys, but I can't understand why she would want to be back at the Dursleys."

Dumbledore smiled gently.

"I think that is something you will have to think through more thoroughly."

Harry couldn't understand what Dumbledore meant by this, but was quickly relieved of any thoughts that might have passed through his mind as Dumbledore continued.

"I must tell you though Harry that this mirror gives us no knowledge, nor truth. Men have wasted away in front of it, many have gone mad," Dumbledore said, his expression getting more and more serious. "Which is why tomorrow, it shall be moved to a new home, and I must ask this of you Harry, not to go looking for it again."

Harry looked back at his mum and dad, a single thought occurring to him, that he would not be able to ever see them again. He then looked back up to the unusually serious Dumbledore and knew that it was rather pointless to oppose this. He nodded quickly and turned back towards the mirror as Dumbledore smiled.

"Well I think you best be off to bed now, I'd recommend staying clear of the fifth floor on your way back, Professor Snape usually patrols them at this hour."

Harry nodded before continuing to the door. He turned back to Dumbledore who was gazing into the mirror, an almost sad expression on his face.

"Professor," Harry said.

Dumbledore turned and faced Harry.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you see when you look into the mirror?"

"Me?" Dumbledore said in a soft voice. "I see myself holding a pair of warm woolen socks; you can never have too many socks you know. Everyone insists on giving me books, but I have far too many of those."

Harry looked at Dumbledore quizzically, trying to figure out if he was serious. He then supposed it had been an awfully personal question.

"You best be off now, Harry."

Harry nodded and left, remembering the pair of Uncle Vernon's socks he had received for Christmas and then immediately realized who would appreciate them as a Christmas gift.


	16. Nicolas Flamel

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 16<p>

Nicolas Flamel

Harry, despite not returning to the mirror as he promised Dumbledore, couldn't help but have the nagging feeling inside his mind to go and find it again. He also had been having reoccurring nightmares about his parent's deaths and a flash of green light. Christmas break was turning into a horrible endeavor. Harry, during the day, spent hours contemplating the mirror and playing with (or actually, losing to) Ron in wizard's chess and his nights were plagued with nightmares. What was worse was that he couldn't seem to find Cosette anywhere to demand back his cloak, and they couldn't find anything on Nicolas Flamel.

"Dumbledore must have been right when he said the mirror can make you go crazy," Ron said when they sat down to a game of wizard's chess as Harry told him about one of his nightmares.

After losing once again to Ron, Harry sighed and lay back in the chair. It didn't seem like anything was going right, and the emotions running through him were tumultuous and constantly jumping up and down. One thing he was certain about was that when he finally did catch his sister, he would give her a piece of his mind.

"I just wish I had my cloak back… that way, we could at least attempt to do more research…"

Ron grumbled.

"Your sister is a brat, Harry. I wouldn't be surprised if she was standing in this room right now wearing the cloak and snickering at us," he looked suddenly accusingly at Harry, "I mean, she has the password after all."

Harry sat bolt upright at Ron's comment and looked around the room, wondering if it could be true. It only made him angrier. The trust was slowly shrinking between his sister, knowing that she would steal from him. He knew that often times she had sticky hands when involving the Dursleys and the occasional foodstuff from Figg, but to take something from him, especially something she knew meant so much to him? If he only knew where she was right now…

When Cosette had first seen her brother with the cloak, she couldn't explain the amount of resentment and betrayal she felt. It seemed that even her parents favored her brother, giving him a useful, rare invisibility cloak, and giving her a measly locket. In her anger, after she grabbed Harry's cloak and returned to her dorm, she ripped off the locket from her neck and threw it into the trash bin. She spent the remainder of the night crying into her pillow wrapped up in her brother's gift. The rest of Christmas started slowly for her, and after her initial frustration and anger, she retrieved her locket from the garbage. Cosette had since then taken to sneaking about under Harry's cloak to gain access to the library after hours and snatch books from there. She also took to scouring the castle to familiarize herself with it more efficiently. She also took to walking around with the invisibility cloak during the day as to more effectively avoid interacting with her twin brother.

The rest of break seemed to go by very quickly. Frequent snow storms left the grounds of Hogwarts covered in a layer of snow deep enough to actually reach Hagrid's waist. This made visiting Hagrid almost impossible, which made things worse since Harry would have enjoyed visits with Hagrid to take his mind off current affairs.

The day directly before the official end of break, Harry and Ron came inside from digging in the snow. They had made a sizable shelter from hollowing out the impressive layer of snow by the Hogwarts main entrance. They were about to proceed into the Great Hall for something warm to drink, smiling carelessly, when suddenly Harry spotted Cosette. She walked up to them very shyly and awkwardly. Harry looked at his sister coldly.

"Here…" Cosette said, thrusting his invisibility cloak at him.

Harry snatched it quickly out of her hands and continued to glare.

"Professor Dumbledore said I should give that back to you, and I did so… bye."

Before Harry could protest, Cosette turned and shuffled her way down a crisscrossing corridor.

Harry wanted to yell at her and tell her how she got them both in trouble; how it hurt that she would steal from him. He wanted to ask her why she did it, but as he made to go after her; he noted she had already disappeared from sight. It seemed like they had once again cemented themselves in the scenario of being angry and avoiding each other. It was as if Christmas day hadn't even happen at all.

The end of break finally came and the change was dramatic. The teachers were taking down the decorations and all at once the students had returned, filling the castle with noise and activity. Hermione had quickly found both Harry and Ron and asked them if they had found anything about Nicolas Flamel, to which they responded with much groaning of frustration that they had not and they had even checked the restricted section. When Hermione asked how they managed to do this, Harry and Ron more excitedly explained Harry's amazing Christmas gift.

Within the following week, the next Quidditch match was approaching, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Practice started up again, and because of the massive snow, the Gryffindors had to open the common room windows and fly out from there to the Quidditch pitch. Practice was a bit harder because Harry found himself in bulkier uniform that restricted his movement somewhat, and he found himself hit with a mild form a snow blindness. However, the worst news of the day was when Oliver Wood explained to them that Snape would be filling in as referee in place of Madam Hooch.

There were numerous groans to be shared among the Quidditch team, all knowing and preparing to lose the match thanks to Snape's known hatred of the Gryffindors. Even Wood's encouraging speeches about playing the most fair, quick match to stop Snape from calling penalties didn't alleviate the wave of depression.

When Harry flew back in from practice, he met Ron and Hermione in the common room.

"Oy Harry, what has you looking so foul?" Ron asked upon seeing Harry's fallen expression.

"Snape. He's refereeing the Hufflepuff Gryffindor match."

"What?" both Ron and Hermione yelled simultaneously.

"How in the world did _he _manage to do that?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"Since Hooch got sacked for maltreatment of students…or something like that…"

"But…but why Snape! He's never refereed before!" Ron complained.

Hermione quickly broke in.

"No Harry, you can't play! He'll try to kill you!" she gasped.

"Hermione's right Harry. Snape must be planning something, and he'll try to finish what he started last game. You've got to play sick or something."

"Or pretend to break a leg," Hermione offered.

"Or _really_ break your leg," Ron said.

Harry shook his head.

"I can't. The Gryffindors don't have a back up Seeker. If I don't play, we'll lose."

Hermione's face scrunched up.

"Then lose, Harry! A Quidditch game isn't worth your life!"

"Yes it is!" Ron looked defiantly. Hermione ignored him.

"I can't. I can't let Snape know he can get to me! I have to play! Everyone will just think I'm afraid of Snape if I don't go!"

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. Harry was torn with what to do. He knew Snape must be aware that they were on to him; otherwise he wouldn't be so adamant about taking on the refereeing position.

Before any of them could continue, the porthole opened and in stumbled the form of Neville Longbottom. His legs were stiff and stuck together as he hopped his way into the common room. A few people laughed at him as he made his way towards the couch and sunk down.

"Leg-lock curse," Hermione rolled her eyes, making her way over to Neville and waved her wand, removing the curse.

"Who did this to you, Neville?" Harry asked, noticing the amount of perspiration on Neville's forehead.

"Malfoy," Neville grumbled. "He said he wanted to try out a new curse… and I wasn't quick enough. I had to hop my way up here."

Harry felt appalled at the thought of Neville navigating through the castle with his legs stuck together.

"That Malfoy is awful," Hermione said, patting Neville on the back. His head was drooped self-consciously. "You need to report him to McGonagall!"

"I can't do that… I don't want to cause any more trouble…" he grumbled. "If only I was a better wizard…"

"Don't think that, Neville," Harry piped in. Neville looked up unconvinced. "You're worth ten times the amount of Malfoy."

"Yeah," Ron chirped in, giving Neville a wide smile. "You're a Gryffindor after all. I bet Malfoy had his goons to back him up too, you probably could have taken him if it was one on one."

Neville's face brightened a bit.

"You think so?"

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Definitely, after all, you're a Gryffindor! And where is Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville looked much better. Having the support of friends seemed to make all the difference to someone like Longbottom. He was a constant target for ridicule because of his fumbling in class, but his friends always stood up for him, and he was able to persevere.

"Don't let it bother you. Here, have a chocolate frog," Ron handed over one of his favorite sweets, and Neville took it gratefully.

"Gee, thanks," he smiled, pulling open the container and taking a bite of the wriggling chocolate. He briefly looked at the card before flashing it to Ron.

"You want the card? I know you collect them."

Ron eagerly took the card, and only gave it half a glance when he noticed who was on it.

He shrugged and pitched the card over his shoulder.

"It's only Dumbledore again."

It was in that instant that something clicked in Harry's mind. He wanted to hit himself at how stupid he could have been. The reason Nicolas Flamel's name was so familiar, it was right in front of him the whole time.

"That's it!" Harry made a dive after the discarded card. He eagerly lifted the card in his hand, holding it reverently as the three standing Gryffindors eyed him peculiarly.

"The Chocolate frog card! The reason why Nicolas Flamel's name was so familiar; he's on here, 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

"Let me see that," Hermione pushed her way over and snatched the card form his hand. Quickly, her eyes danced over the card before growing wide.

"Harry, you're right. How could I have been so stupid! Wait right here!"

Hermione vanished and soon returned once again with a tremendous sized book in her hands. She slammed it against the table in front of them.

"I checked this out from the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

Ron's eyes shot up.

"You call this _light reading?"_

Hermione ignored him and quickly opened the book. She skimmed through several pages until she landed her index finger at one particular passage.

"See here? I knew it! It says Nicolas Flamel is the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"The _what?"_ Ron and Harry replied simultaneously.

Hermione gave them both a harsh stare.

"Honestly, do you live under a rock, or do you just not read? See here: 'The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year—"

"Blood hell!" Ron interrupted.

Hermione continued on as if he hadn't disrupted her.

"That must be what Fluffy is guarding on the third floor. That must be what Snape is after, the Philosopher's Stone. He probably asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him because he knew someone was after it; that's why it was moved from Gringotts. "

"It would also explain why we couldn't find him in any of the modern books. He's not exactly a spring chicken, is he?" Ron added.

By the next morning, the three of them had talked the subject to death, pulling out everything they knew about the Philosopher's Stone. Snape must have wanted it to gain eternal life; it made complete sense to them.

They had to put their conversation on hold as they entered Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The room itself was dark and gloomy, as the Professor deemed it necessary to board up the windows in case of an invasion of Killer Tomatoes and strings of garlic coated the walls to prevent vampires. They had just opened up their first year books and Professor Quirrell had begun the painful operation of preparing his speech about treating werewolf bites. At this, Hermione's hand shot up into the air.

"Y-y-yes, M-ms. Gr-gr-g-gr-anger?" he called out.

"Um…Professor, what exactly does werewolf bites have to do with the proper method of eliminating garden gnomes?"

Quirrell was silent for several seconds, eyeing Hermione and fidgeting nervously.

"Oh… Th-this isn't m-m-m-y third year c-c-cl-class… is it?"

No one said a word as the stuttering bloke erased what he wrote on the chalkboard with a wave of his trembling wand and cleared his throat, beginning again, this time on the proper first year subject. By the end of class, Harry was still unsure of what he had learned. Quirrell had kept stuttering over words and mixing up his curriculum, and their lesson today had been filled with how to properly treat your garden of inflicted bites caused by rabid werewolf gnomes.

As they walked out of class, Harry's mind was still racing with how to stop Snape from stealing the stone. He couldn't think of anything that would work, and the approaching Quidditch match offered no help to ease his discomfort.

By the day of the match, Harry's stomach was in knots. He had never dreaded Quidditch so much as he did this match. Wood had given them a brief speech, telling them all to try and make the game as quick as possible so that Snape couldn't give them too many penalties. Harry only half-listened as he watched the stands fill up with people, and his heart suddenly stopped when he spotted the white beard and poofy blue winter's cap of Dumbledore. Relief flooded through Harry like never before. If Dumbledore was here, Snape wouldn't try to pull anything!

The game started much like the previous, and Harry watched as Wood went to shake hands with the captain of the Hufflepuff team, a large nosed well-built kid named Andreacchi. Snape was glaring at all the students as they got into position, but he seemed the glare the hardest at any Quidditch player who happened to be wearing red and gold. Before Harry knew it, the game began.

Cosette had decided against going to the Quidditch match. After being thoroughly embarrassed by Dumbledore when he approached her about Harry's cloak, Cosette avoided Harry even more. It seemed like whatever warmth they developed over Christmas day had evaporated in an instant, and she had no desire to sit out in the freezing weather, in the snow, to watch her brother try and kill himself yet again. Instead, she decided to enjoy the momentous silence in her dorm, as all the other students went to watch the game.

It was all the same, for when she heard the clatter of students return, she noted all of them sourly remarking how Gryffindor had stolen the match, crushing Hufflepuff within minutes. Malfoy seemed to be complaining the most, yelling about how they must have cheated. She noted that he also seemed to be nursing a black eye. She half didn't believe that the match was over. Could something that reasonably could end within a few minutes be considered a sport? And such a popular one? Cosette didn't think she'd ever understand Quidditch.

Aguillard had also stayed behind from the match, as he was –still—suffering his suspension since his stunt on Halloween. She briefly wondered how long he would have the sentence for, but knowing Snape, he probably was suspended until the end of the year.

"Bloody idiots! They think they can get away with hitting me?" Malfoy griped, clutching his eye in pain. "That Wetbottom and Weasley will surely get what's coming to them. They tried to pull a fast one during the game, took out Goyle even."

It was only then that Cosette noticed the absence of Malfoy's other bodyguard. She wondered what had happened between her brother's friends and Malfoy, but quickly shrugged it off; she didn't really care about a skirmish between the rival houses.

Seeing as she would get no real explanation about the short match from anyone without engaging in some sort of awkward conversation, Cosette turned to leave again, but only made it to the door to the dormitories when she was stopped by a loud, obnoxious voice.

"Did you ever notice that people only ever mention Hufflepuffs when there is a Quidditch game?"

Cosette jumped in fright and turned quickly, her face rose to meet the smiling gaze of Melvin Aguillard. She puzzled over his words, and inwardly thought of possible escape routes as he continued.

"They don't even take the time to think about the Hufflepuffs as a whole. For instance; have you ever noticed how amazing Hufflepuffs are? I mean, just look at their name: Huffle-Puff."

Cosette blinked.

"Their name reminds me of marshmallows… so soft and squishy…" he made weird hand motions which illustrated him grasping some object in both hands and squeezing repeatedly.

Not understanding what he was talking about and anxious to get away, Cosette turned and continued to her dorm room.

By the time supper came around, the entire Great Hall was still going on about the Quidditch game. Harry had been approached by several people to congratulate him. According to Ron, there hadn't been such a short game in centuries. Yet Harry couldn't help speculate that the game lasted for ten minutes, and it would have been half that if Snape hadn't called non-existent penalties in favor of Hufflepuff so often.

Ron was also rather smug about the fact that he had given Malfoy the shiner of his life. Harry was rather surprised when he heard of the fight that broke out between Malfoy and his goons and Ron and Neville. Apparently, they were fighting over the Quidditch game. Neville had taken out Goyle, but Crabbe had sent him to the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey said he would make a full recovery.

Harry wasn't feeling particularly hungry, and so he left the Great Hall and decided to take a ride around the courtyard on his broom to get some fresh air and think things through. He had taken to flying in gentle circles on his broom as the sky grew darker. As he thought about the discoveries they made about Flamel, and the recent victory against Hufflepuff, Harry paused mid-turn as he noticed a shadowy figure storm from the castle and make his way towards the Forbidden Forest. When he noticed the billowing cape, Harry immediately recognized the figure as Snape.

Wondering what business Snape had so late in the forest, Harry went to follow, flying low enough to keep sight of Snape, but high enough to reach the tree tops and stay out of view. He had no doubt that Snape must have been up to something, and any dirt he could find on him would help. He couldn't justly approach any of the professors with his accusations without solid proof, and maybe now he would have the final nail to sink Snape into his proverbial coffin.

As he grew closer, he heard Snape's voice and one other person; Snape was obviously not alone.

"I-I-I d-d-don't know w-w-why y-you asked to m-m-m-meet me h-h-here, S-S-e-S-e-Severus."

Harry recognized the stuttering voice instantly.

"I thought we'd keep this conversation away from prying eyes and ears," Snape's icy voice droned out. "Students are not supposed to be made aware of the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

At the mention of the stone, Harry leaned in closer.

He heard Quirrell stutter and mumbled some incoherent words and Snape quickly interrupted coldly.

"Have you figured out how to get passed that three-headed beast?"

"Th-th-three headed b-b-beast?" Quirrell uttered pitifully.

"Don't try to deny it," Snape's cutting voice made Quirrell jump. He seemed to shirk back as suddenly Snape was upon him, his wand aimed at his face. "You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell…"

Quirrell seemed to begin shaking at Snape's intimidating threat. Suddenly, there was a loud hooting from an owl that scared him almost off his broom. By the time he righted himself, he only caught the last of Snape's words.

"—a bit of your own little tricks," Snape finished. Quirrell was silent.

"I'm waiting," Snape growled out impatiently.

"B-but I d-d-don't -"

"Very well," Snape cut in, removing his wand and stood back into his stiff position. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and have decided where your loyalties lie."

Then, in a flash of billowing robes, Snape turned and ran out of the forest. Harry sat on the Nimbus Two-thousand. Quirrell was left standing there frozen in fear before turning to look anxiously in all directions. Then, as calmly as Harry had ever seen, Quirrell made his way deeper into the forest.

Harry met up with Ron and Hermione in the library the following day, and was quick to tell them what he had overheard in the exchange between Snape and Quirrell. He felt certain that this exchange was irrefutable proof that Snape was after the stone and furthermore threatening one of the teachers for a way to get passed Fluffy.

"If it's Quirrell he's threatening, the stone will be gone by the end of the week," Ron said rather dryly.

"We should go tell Hagrid about this, he can't possibly defend Snape now that we know he's threatening Quirrell," Hermione said brightly.

Harry shook his head.

"I'm more concerned at the moment about figuring out what Snape wants from Quirrell. I mean what would Quirrell know about Fluffy?"

"He is a Defense teacher though he doesn't look it," Ron said.

"Yeah, maybe, but what can we do in the meantime?"

"Well from the sound of it, Snape needs Quirrell alone to properly threaten him, so if he's never alone then we could possibly prevent Snape from finding anything out, and if he does, we will as well."

"So what? We just try and spend as much time around Quirrell as we can?"

"What else can we do, mate? I mean, Quirrell will inevitably need what little support we can offer, just look at the man."

Harry nodded and knew that Ron was right, they couldn't do very much of anything, and besides, they would need proof that Snape was threatening Quirrell if they were going to tell anyone. Hermione was silent, thinking the matter over.

"This plan simply won't work. How is it you plan to constantly be near Quirrell?" she asked simply.

"He doesn't need to know that we're there. We'll just follow him and come out when Snape comes by."

"Yes, but you also have classes that you need to attend, and I am not doing any more of your homework, you need to learn this stuff just as much as I do."

At this, Ron groaned loudly in annoyance, but Hermione ignored him.

"Whatever the case, we all have the same schedules, so there is no way to split up responsibility for who is watching Quirrell when."

"Yes, but both Snape and Quirrell have to be at their classes as well, so they'll be occupied just as much as we are, and we can all keep an eye on Quirrell when we have time off," Harry pointed out.

"I suppose…" Hermione said, though she still didn't sound as though she particularly liked the plan.

No one was particularly sure what to say as they sat in an awkward silence. They were soon ushered out of the library by Madam Pince who said that they weren't using the library, only clogging up space.


	17. Hagrid's Pet

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 17<p>

Hagrid's Pet

Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone to great lengths to memorize Quirrell's schedule over the next few weeks and tried their best to be around Quirrell when they could be. This was no easy feat, mainly because Quirrell did not to have a strict routine that he followed; on the contrary, his schedule was sporadic and filled with random visits to apparently empty classrooms which he would lock himself in for a time before coming out. They were not sure why he did this, but he seemed to spend his time in these classrooms whispering quietly to himself. It also dawned on the group how few meals that Quirrell seemed to frequent, preferring to visit these random classrooms instead. As such, the threesome took in turn to eat in the hallway outside the classroom that Quirrell was locked up in. The good news though however, was that Snape did not approach Quirrell a single time while they were watching him, though it was still rather difficult to be sure that Snape wasn't threatening Quirrell in the evenings past curfew.

Harry rubbed his eyes, which were itchy from tiredness as he tried desperately to finish an essay from Quirrell on "rabid were-gardens and their danger to the gnome population."

Hermione was trying her best to help make Quirrell's class remotely coherent to both Ron and Harry, but to little effect.

"So where did fanged gardens originate?" Ron asked confused.

"There aren't any, forget everything Professor Quirrell said about fangs and gardens," she said exasperated.

"That's half the lesson…"

Harry stopped paying attention after a certain point and walked over to the window to look out across the grounds. He wondered briefly how it was exactly that Quirrell could possibly know anything about getting past three-headed dogs. He saw a small column of smoke rising from Hagrid's hut in the sunset. It was then he got an idea.

"We should go to Hagrid's," Harry said interrupting the bickering of the other two Gryffindors.

"Why?" Ron asked simply.

"Well, we haven't been there in a while and we haven't found anything out from following Quirrell around. We might as well see what Hagrid will tell us."

Ron looked reproachfully at his homework assignment and quickly nodded, much to the annoyance of Hermione who gave a groan of annoyance.

Harry went up and grabbed his indivisibility cloak since it was almost curfew and together the group made their way out of the common room and eventually out onto the grounds.

Most of the snow had melted at this point, but the late January weather was still nothing to write home about. Cold rain fell most every day, making the landscape very muddy and wet with the occasional patch of ice. The group made their way down the muddy slope very cautiously as not to slip.

When they finally reached Hagrid's hut they were all grateful to be able to stand on the solid ground of the porch as Harry knocked on the door.

Hagrid answered the door by opening it a small crack and peeking out. A wave of warm air seemed to exhaust out through the crack.

"Harry? Sorry but I don' mean to be rude or anythin' but I'm quite busy at the moment."

"We want to talk to you, it's important."

"How important?" Hagrid asked his eyes narrowing.

Harry briefly thought how this was so unlike Hagrid; he usually wasn't the suspicious type.

"It's about the Philosopher's Stone."

Hagrid's expression did not change; he simply stared at him through his narrowed pupils. He finally let out an exasperated sigh and stepped back to open the door. An unmistakable wave of heat hit the three of them, as if an oven had just been opened.

"Yeh best come in. Hurry up, yer letting the hot air out," Hagrid said, ushering the three of them inside.

Hagrid's hut looked and felt like an oven. Several lamps and torches were burning brightly throughout the room along with a roaring fire in the fireplace, upon which sat a large cauldron. Every usual crack that heat ordinarily escaped from had been filled with what looked like clay.

Hagrid closed the door quickly behind the trio and covered it with what looked like a very thick and heavy quilt. Harry noted that the windows and back door where covered with similar cloths.

Harry was grateful to be inside from the cold, but it was stiflingly hot in Hagrid's hut. He sat down in his usual seat however, and tried to ignore the heat as Hagrid served them scalding hot tea.

"So out with it, what do yeh know?" Hagrid asked throwing his gaze to the cauldron on the fire.

Harry looked at Hagrid; something seemed very off, like he was preoccupied with something. Harry shrugged it off and began to answer the question.

"We know that the Philosopher's Stone was what was in that package from Gringotts and it is now currently being guarded by Fluffy."

"How do yeh know this?" Hagrid said simply, not turning away from the fire.

Harry was about to answer but quickly realized he couldn't, as most of what he knew was in reality based primarily on speculation. Though it was speculation he felt sure must be accurate.

He was saved however, as Hagrid didn't seem to notice the silence and instead pressed another question.

"Is there anythin' else?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Not only do we know that Snape is trying to steal the stone, we know that he is threatening Quirrell for information regarding how to get passed Fluffy."

With that, Harry began to explain how he had overheard Snape and Quirrell in the forest some time ago and how they had been following Quirrell around for a while trying to figure out what Snape wanted from him, or at least prevent Snape from getting it. Finally, they explained how they were hoping that he could tell them something.

Hagrid was silent for several moments as he continued to stare at the cauldron. Finally, he turned to Harry.

"First off, none of this is any of yer business." Harry's heart sank; Hagrid wasn't going to say anything worth knowing. "Secondly, Snape is one of the Professor's protectin' the stone, he's not about to steal it," Hagrid said simply as he turned back to the fire.

"One of the teachers?" Hermione said inquisitively. "You mean that there are other protections for the stone aside from Fluffy?"

"Tha's right, though I would say that it's a waste of bloomin' time if yeh ask me since not one soul is going to get passed Fluffy."

"So there are spells and enchantments protecting the stone as well?" Ron asked.

"That must mean that Quirrell is one of the other teachers protecting the stone, that's why Snape is threatening him!" Harry said excitedly.

Hagrid shook his head.

"How many times do I have to tell yeh, Snape is not tryin' to steal the stone," Hagrid said, though the group was ignoring him and instead talking among themselves.

"Let's hope Quirrell isn't the only teacher defending the stone, if he isn't, Snape's going to have a harder time getting all the info he needs," Ron said quickly.

Hagrid shook his head and turned back to the fire.

After several moments, Harry could no longer stand it and addressed Hagrid about the stifling heat.

"Hagrid, is it possible you could open a window or something; it's really hot in here."

Hagrid turned and looked at Harry; he looked as though he was about to say something when there came a large clattering noise from the cauldron. Everyone except Hagrid jumped at the sudden noise. A grin spread across Hagrid's face as he sprang to his feet and went over to the fire, pulling oven mitts over his hands.

He grasped either side of the cauldron and pulled it off of the flame. He brought it over to the table where one of the thick quilts was situated. Curiously, the trio followed as Hagrid tipped the contents of the cauldron out onto the quilt.

With a soft thud, what looked like a smoothly polished, dark colored, metal rugby ball rolled out. Hagrid sat down and watched it anxiously. Harry simply stared at it confused. It was a very pretty stone, but other than that it didn't seem that remarkable. Harry then noticed that the stone was vibrating gently.

"Umm… Hagrid… What exactly is that?" Harry asked.

"That? Well that is… Erm…" Hagrid said as if trying to figure out what to say.

"I know what that is!" Ron said excitedly. "But how did you get one?"

"I won it, down off a stranger I met in the pub; he seemed a right mighty glad to be rid of it as a matter o' fact…" Hagrid said trailing off.

Harry was still lost, but he let his question go unanswered as the stone continued to vibrate, steadily it began to move faster and faster.

There was quite suddenly a loud splitting noise that came from the stone and it became obvious something inside was moving. Several more sharp cracks seemed to issue from the rock and it was then that Harry saw that tiny hairline fractures had formed on the otherwise smooth surface. Several other splinters came from it, causing it to vibrate heavily and the cracks that had already formed grew larger and new ones formed. Finally it seemed to stop moving for several seconds; Harry held his breath to see what would happen. It was then quite suddenly there was a final extremely loud crackling and the stone broke open, pieces of it flying in all directions.

Harry shielded his face briefly to keep pieces of the rock from getting into his eyes. When he looked once more he saw where the stone had been sat a small slimy lizard-like creature with leathery wings that looked far too big for it.

"Is that… a dragon?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"That's not just a dragon, that's a Norwegian Ridgeback!" Ron said excitedly. "My brother Charlie works with these in Romania!"

Harry watched the creature in amazement. A real live dragon, he had to admit this was a treat. The creature itself was very slimy looking with dark green leathery skin. From the crown of its head to the tip of its long slender tail ran a black stripe that gleamed with oily, iridescent colors. It was very thin and frail looking and it seemed to be figuring out how to stand up properly and fold its giant wings that were so comically oversized, that it seemed to be constantly knocking itself off balance with them.

"I thought dragons were illegal in Britain," Hermione said, Hagrid ignored her.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" Hagrid said smiling as the dragon turned to Hagrid, looking as though it was about to attack.

Hagrid stroked the dragon's slender neck; it gave out a low coo in response.

"Alright there Norbert," Hagrid said, his smile not leaving his face.

"Norbert?"

"Well he's gotta have a name don' he?" Hagrid said, as if this was a rather fundamental thing. "Also he's probably goin' to be hungry," Hagrid got up and walked across the room. He picked up a book and opened it.

"This book is incredible; never has there been a better resource assembled for dragon breedin'," he said, brandishing a volume titled, _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit._

He opened the book and read quietly for a few moments.

"Here we are, Norwegian Ridgeback!" he said flipping through the pages, the trio more or less simply stared at him, wondering what he was going to do. Hagrid found the page and began to read.

"Norwegian Ridgebacks are known to mainly dwell in the ice-capped mountains of northern Sweden, despite their name. They prefer much colder climates than mos' dragons and they are ideal dragons to raise for those who happen to live in cold climates or those who do not have the means to produce enough heat expected by mos' dragons in their younger years. They are highly carnivorous and as babies their mother feeds them with a mixture of digested meat and bile that she regurgitates fer them. This mixture can be effectively emulated with a mixture of one part chicken's blood, two parts brandy, and one part boiled muskrat meat. This mixture must be fed to yer baby dragon once every half-hour."

Hagrid read it over to confirm that this information was correct. Harry hoped it wasn't, taking care of a baby dragon sounded awfully arduous.

Hagrid had apparently already prepared the specified mixture for Norbert. He took a bucket out from under the table and offered it to him. Norbert looked at the bucket confused. Hagrid looked through the book, apparently hoping to be able to read how you were supposed to feed the noxious mixture to your dragon.

His greatest resource failing him, Hagrid slowly tipped to bucket forward; hoping Norbert would see what was inside and take the hint. This seemed to work fairly well as Norbert dived into the bucket quite suddenly and began to drink up the liquid. Hagrid smiled as if this vicious behavior was quaint and adorable.

"I'm pretty sure dragons are illegal Hagrid, you can't possibly keep it," Hermione said a rather disgusted look on her face as she watched Norbert bathe himself in his feed.

For once, Ron seemed to agree with Hermione on something.

"Hermione's right Hagrid, everyone knows that the Ministry classifies dragons as some of the deadliest creatures in the world."

Hagrid smiled the information that Ron gave him about how dangerous dragons were considered to be seemed to make him even happier to have one.

The trio looked skeptically at one another as Norbert finished his first meal and crawled out of the bucket. Norbert looked around, as if looking for something. It then stopped to stare at Ron. Ron shirked back slightly, uncomfortable to be in the dragon's gaze. It was then, without warning, that Norbert pounced, spreading his oversized wings to glide through the air. Ron backpedaled away from the oncoming dragon, which left the table, and as Ron lifted his hand to push the dragon away, Norbert sank its tiny fangs into Ron's hand and wrapped himself around Ron's forearm, refusing to let go.

"Ow! Get it off! Get it off!" Ron screamed. Hagrid shot to his feet and walked over to pry Norbert from Ron. Norbert didn't seem to mind as he immediately turned around and sank his teeth into Hagrid's hand.

"It bit me!" Ron said his eyes watering somewhat, although it looked more like Norbert had flayed Ron's hand open.

Hagrid was doing a much better job of ignoring the dragon on his hand as he retrieved a flask of some type of liquid and some dirty bandages from a cupboard.

"He was jus' playin', tha's how dragons play," Hagrid insisted in attempt to calm Ron down.

"He tried to eat me!" Ron complained hotly.

"He's jus' not used to creatures with such soft skin yeh see, his mother would have her scales to protect her," Hagrid explained.

Ron clamped his other hand firmly around his wounded one and refused to let Hagrid look at it. Ron was still reluctant even after Hagrid had put Norbert back on the table.

Hagrid uncorked the bottle in his hand and after warning Ron that it would sting, poured it on Ron's hand. Ron issued another scream from the liquid and withdrew his arm. Hagrid nodded and then drank a swig from the bottle.

Needless to say, the visit with Hagrid had not gone at all how they had hoped and they were eager to leave before Norbert decided to attack again. Hagrid was distracted by Norbert who had just attacked fang as the trio exited the hut, relieved to be out of the stifling heat. They quickly made their way back up to the castle.

"I have to say, Hagrid is mental," Ron said bitterly as he clutched his hand.

"Hagrid did say that he always wanted a dragon," Harry said.

"Maybe, but there is a good reason why dragons are illegal, it's not like they're easy to hide when their full grown," Ron said spitefully. He did not seem to be at all in a good mood; Harry couldn't blame him, especially considering the nasty look of his hand.

The following week, Hermione had become more and more insistent that Ron and Harry study. She had gone through the effort to write up study schedules for them and on top of that, refused to help them with any of their homework. Ron grew accustomed to using his injured hand as an excuse to not do any of it, which was a legitimate excuse as he could barely hold a quill, but Harry was not so lucky and Hermione would not stop nagging him about his study habits. It was driving both Ron and Harry crazy, especially so considering they were so preoccupied with the dragon that Hagrid was keeping. The creature had doubled in size by week's end and neither Ron nor Harry were getting anywhere with convincing Hagrid to give Norbert up.

"I just don't get it, he acts as if that horrid creature was a cute little bunny rabbit," Ron said. Ron was not looking well. Norbert's bite had swollen quite a lot and turned a nasty shade of green. Ron himself had paled and was now starting to look somewhat feverish.

"I don't understand it any better than you do," Hermione said as they made their way to Herbology. "At the rate, that dragon is growing it will be fully grown by Easter."

"Hermione, shush," Harry whispered to Hermione. It seemed as though Malfoy was listening some feet off. Harry shot a venomous glance back at Malfoy. How much had he heard? Hermione decided to switch to a safer subject and turned to Ron, she looked at him and down to his bandaged hand, which he was nursing.

"You really should go see Madam Pomfrey about that. It looks infected."

Ron suddenly puffed up his chest and glared at Hermione as if she had told him to cut it off.

"It's completely fine! Only a small flesh wound," he said indignantly.

Hermione raised a brow.

"Ron, its leaking green puss and the bandages smell something awful."

"Hermione's right," Harry added, eyeing the wrapped hand. "That doesn't look like it's healing properly. At all."

Ron grumbled something unintelligible, dropping his head in defeat.

"Yeah, okay, fine I'll go. If it'll get you two off my back and get me out of Herbology. We had a test today, anyway."

Harry and Hermione continued on their day as normal as Ron spent his day in the Hospital Wing. It wasn't until the middle of Transfigurations class did an idea finally occur to Harry about the situation with Hagrid's dragon. He was anxious for the end of class to approach Hermione with the idea, as Hermione, being the proper attentive student, refused to even pass a note in the middle of class.

When he approached her, she gave him an annoyed look, as she had successfully ignored his attempts to talk to her during class. He made sure to pull her to the side behind a towering statue of Harpo the Hapless.

"Harry, what is it?"

"It's about the dragon! I thought of a solution."

Hermione's face brightened.

"Really? What?"

"Charlie," Harry said simply.

"Charlie," Hermione repeated a concentrated expression on her face as she tried to recall the name. When it didn't immediately come to her, she continued. "Who's Charlie?"

Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Ron's older brother. He trains dragons or something like that. Anyway, Ron told me about him once. Maybe he can take the dragon without anyone seeing."

Hermione's eyes lit up.

"We need to see Ron, immediately."

Harry then found himself half dragged up the castle steps to the Hospital Wing. They burst their way through the doors, nearly startling a first year Ravenclaw who had his arm in a sling, off the bed he was resting on. Pomfrey was quick to silence them, threatening them both with the shaking of her wand. Both Gryffindors lowered their voices and asked to speak to Ron. Grumbling, she pointed them to a bed half way up the left side of the room.

Ron was sitting in his bed looking none too pleased. His injured hand had been wrapped by Madam Pomfrey so tight and effectively, that he was awarded no movement of his fingers. Actually, no fingers could even be seen within the massive amount of wrappings, and the stump where his hand should have been was replaced with what looked like a ball of cotton candy made out of gauze. Ron glared at them as if this was entirely their fault.

"Ron, do you think your brother would be interested in taking Norbert?" Harry asked as they made their way to Ron's bed. Hermione was quick to draw the curtains to give them privacy.

Ron blinked at them.

"Hello Harry, Hermione; me? Oh, I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking. Just got my armed bandaged up like a bloody club!"

Harry looked at Ron and his obvious foul mood and took his sarcasm with a grain of salt.

"We're being serious now, Ron," Hermione cut in, not even glancing at the cocoon that was once her friend's hand.

Ron grumbled.

"Charlie? I'm sure he'd be interested in taking a dragon, especially if it's for free. They aren't cheap, you know. Just as long as there's no catch involved, of course."

"Great," Harry smiled "You think you could send him an owl?"

Ron's expression darkened and he lifted up his cushioned hand. "Um, hello?"

Harry colored slightly.

"Erm… right. How about I pen the message and you send it, hmm?"

The end result was better than imagined. Ron's brother seemed ecstatic that they wanted to get rid of a dragon, and that he could get a hold of one without the heavy cost involved. It was also a relief that Charlie didn't ask too many questions, like how they even got a hold of a dragon to begin with. The corresponding note told them they would meet them on top the Astronomy Tower by brooms to avoid being seen the next day. The only thing they needed to do was convince Hagrid now, and it would be all set.

"No, absolutely not."

Harry and Hermione groaned at Hagrid's outright refusal.

"Hagrid—" Harry started.

"He's jus' a baby! He needs his mummy!" To prove this point, Hagrid tried to illustrate the action of cuddling the dragon, which began hissing and clawing against Hagrid's unbreakable grip.

"He's lost his marbles," Harry whispered to Hermione, who was eyeing the dragon and Hagrid warily.

"Hagrid, the dragon is getting bigger and bigger every day, you won't be able to hide him forever," Hermione tried to sooth.

Hagrid looked away, ignoring the struggling dragon which was trying as hard as it could to get out of his vice like arms and was in fact, shredding Hagrid's cloak into ribbons.

"But…but…"

"Think about it this way Hagrid," Hermione continued. "He'll be with other dragons, his own kind. It won't be as if he'd be alone."

Hagrid's face looked downcast, as he thought about her words.

"Yes well, what if the other dragons don' like him? What if they make fun of him? He's such a lil' guy after all…"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He'll be fine Hagrid, and you know it. Think, what's best for Norbert? To be with his own kind? Or for the Ministry to get a hold of him and do who knows what?"

Harry was amazed at Hermione's coercing ability, as Hagrid seemed to generally take her words to heart. His eyes gazed sadly down at the dragon, a mournful look in his eyes.

"Alright…alright…just…give me a few minutes to say goodbye and I'll have him all set by tonight."

Hagrid sniffed, as his tears filled his eyes. Both students stood there awkwardly as Hagrid gave his farewell to the dragon.

By the time nightfall had set, both Harry and Hermione met outside Hagrid's hut hidden under the protection of the invisibility cloak. Hagrid was standing there, crouched over a big wooden crate, patting it gently as it shook and snarled about. When the two revealed themselves, Hagrid looked grim.

They approached the giant Grounds Keeper hesitantly.

"Okay there, Hagrid?" Harry asked nervously.

Hagrid sniffed.

"Jus' sayin' one last…goodbye…" This was all it took apparently, as Hagrid loudly and quite suddenly burst into tears and threw his impressive weight onto the crate. Harry was half surprised that the box didn't crash under him.

"Norbert… Oh, Norbert… You be a good boy, won't you? You be good and play nice with the other dragons… They will love you…you'll see…just let them get to know you."

Hagrid blubbered and the crate shook once again, and Harry was left wondering if it was a Dragon in there or a rabid Tasmanian devil.

"Hagrid?" Harry asked again.

Hagrid sniffed again and stood up, pulling out a dirty kerchief and wiped his nose.

"I'm alright. Just give me a second…"

They both stood there waiting for Hagrid to collect himself. After a few minutes, Harry and Hermione tentatively approached the crate.

"The trip won't be too much strain on him. I made sure to pack him extra ferrets and his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

Harry eyed the wooden crate and watched as he shook. There was loud ripping noises coming from it.

"Right," Harry said. He briefly wondered how a box of such size could fit under the cloak.

They both left not long after that, neither one knowing how quite to deal with Hagrid's crying. They awkwardly shifted the cloak over them as they carried the box. On either end, they hauled up the crate, and shuffled away, Hagrid waving blindly at their invisible forms and calling out tearful farewells. To Harry's utmost surprise, the cloak fit over both he and Hermione and the crate. It was unsettling, carrying the shaking box through the castle up to the Astronomy Tower, the highest point in all of Hogwarts. It was very fortunate, as even though they were invisible, it didn't conceal the many snarls and scratches the dragon made.

As they made their way up the stairs, they froze in place as they heard McGonagall yell loudly. For one terrifying moment, both Harry and Hermione exchanged identical looks of terror. Had they been caught?

But before either one could think of a reasonable excuse why they were out after curfew, hiding under an invisibility cloak and carrying a crate with a dragon, they heard a second voice.

"-But Professor, I swear! I heard them talking! Harry Potter brought a Dragon to the school!"

Malfoy. Harry inwardly grit his teeth at the slimy Slytherin. So he was listening in on them.

"Dragons!" McGonagall's voice huffed. "You expect me to believe that Mr. Potter brought a dragon into the school? Come now, boy, I've never heard such nonsense. Fifty points from Slytherin for being out after curfew!"

Both Gryffindors sighed in relief as McGonagall seemed not to believe Malfoy's words. Malfoy must have been following them, only to be caught by their Head of House. Harry couldn't believe his luck. They waited patiently for several seconds until they heard McGonagall and Malfoy continue up the corridor.

Getting up the Astronomy Tower was a chore. Harry and Hermione had to stop several times half way to catch their breath. At one point, Hermione almost tripped on the stairs going up, and Harry switched places with her, more acclimated to lifting heavy object from the Dursleys. By the time they made it to the tower, both were sweating and short of breath. They dropped the crate with a loud thud and collapsed to the ground. The air on the tower was much cooler, and did well for cooling them both off, but Harry still couldn't help but glare at the cause of his exhaustion, wishing with all his might that they could have just used some sort of magic to lift the thing. Frustrated with himself for not thinking to do such a thing, Harry kicked the crate, only to stub his toe painfully. Norbert snarled from his prison and Hermione glared at him.

It wasn't long after that did Charlie arrive. He was with a group of three people, and because of the head gear and goggles, Harry couldn't correctly determine which one had the distinct Weasley features of red hair. One of the men motioned for Harry to bring the crate forward, and with a groan, Harry pushed the box forward. He watched as one of the three men spelled some sort of rig to surround the box then fit tightly to the end of his broom and another's broom. Then, with a wave farewell, the three were off, carrying Norbert with them. It was quite obvious that they didn't want to stick around for fear of getting caught.

Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Norbert was finally gone. He and Hermione shared a smile as they made their way back down the tower. The night hadn't gone so bad. They had gotten rid of Norbert, and Malfoy had gotten into trouble for spying on them. What more could come their way?

However, as they got off the stairway, they were met with the sinister grinning face of Filch.

"Students out of bed? Aren't we in trouble," he seemed to grin nastily at them.

Both Harry and Hermione gulped and stared at each other, frozen in place. They had forgotten the invisibility cloak at the top of the tower.


	18. Into the Forest

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Into the Forest<p>

Chapter 18

Harry knew they were in trouble. Neville had tried to come to their aid, but he had also been caught, and they were dragged down to McGonagall's office by the scruffs of their sweaters. Once there, their Head of House gave them a thorough disciplining.

The distribution of House points was measured through four large hourglasses, one representing each of the four Hogwarts houses. When house points were awarded, the corresponding hourglass would fill with a few sparkling stones, when points were lost, the hourglass would lose them. And so, when the next day arrived, most of the Gryffindors thought the rubies in the hourglass were a mistake; after all, Gryffindor couldn't have fallen into last place with a hundred and fifty less points in one night, could they? And then the rumors spread. Harry, going at once from famous, popular Quidditch hero, became the subject of everyone's loathing. People glared at him in between classes, openly said nasty things about him and refused to talk with him. He even had one Hufflepuff boy trip in the hall on his way to class. Apparently the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were not happy that the Gryffindors were falling behind, for they were the only ones in the lead to challenge Slytherin for winning back the House Cup after the past eleven years. From that day, Harry decided he would never meddle in anything ever again.

Harry got his chance to prevent himself from meddling in things as he was walking up the hall with Hermione. Hermione hadn't said anything since yesterday. She seemed to be taking the scolding she received very hard.

As they were about to pass an empty classroom, they heard an all too familiar voice.

"No-no please, not that—not again—again…"

Both of them recognized the voice as Quirrell's. He sounded upset and scared.

"All right—All right –I'll do it…"

The two of them quickly hid behind a suit of armor as the classroom door opened and Quirrell walked out, looking shaken, and fixed his turban. Quirrell didn't even look in their direction as he turned and made it up the hallway.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, but from the sound of it he was talking with Snape in there… What if he just told him how to get passed his spells?"

Hermione seemed to pale slightly.

Harry wanted to investigate, to peak into the classroom and see if Snape was there, when he remembered his earlier promise. He said he wouldn't get involved in things that weren't his business, and he needed to keep by it.

"What should we do? Go to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head.

"He won't believe us over Snape, he's a teacher, what's to stop him from just telling Dumbledore he was nowhere near the third floor on Halloween night? Dumbledore knows we don't like Snape, and he'll just assume we're trying to get him sacked. There's nothing we can do, we'll just get ourselves expelled. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Harry was so absorbed in his own shame and helplessness in the matter of Snape and the stone, he didn't notice his own sister's absence from classes. It was mid February and the chilling rains and freezing breeze hadn't bid well for Cosette, and she found herself soon in the Hospital Wing. Cosette hadn't wanted to go, complaining about missing classes, but she had all but fainted when she stepped out of her common room. The dungeons were not well off in the winter, and many of the stones, which leaked water from the lake above, had iced over.

Cosette sat on the Hospital bed with a busy Madam Pomfrey working over her, her wand running up and down her little body.

"My girl! You're as skeletal as a dementor! Aren't you eating?" Pomfrey cast a stern look at Cosette, who shrunk farther into her bed. She sniffled pitifully and wiped off her nose on her sleeve.

"No answer then? A quick diagnosis is in order, child, stand up," her voice left no room for arguing, and although Cosette had no desire to go through with it, she knew better then to disagree. She woke up that morning with a terrible headache and the chills. Her nose was stuffed up and her vision slightly blurry. Slowly, Cosette got herself off the bed, and she swayed somewhat. Pomfrey quickly grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Easy now," the woman said gently, in a voice that differed greatly from the authoritative tone she used earlier.

Madam Pomfrey was a very stern looking woman with brown hair speckled with grey, all hidden behind her healer cap. Her hand quickly rose and she placed the back of it on Cosette's forehead.

"Yes yes, quite a temperature if I've ever felt one. Not surprising in this weather," she droned off, apparently not surprised by her findings.

She watched as Pomfrey went about her arsenal of magic equipment to diagnose Cosette. She felt very nervous being poked and prodded, and every time she shirked away, Pomfrey's strict command forced her still. A clipboard floated in midair and a quill magically began scratching down a list of things Cosette couldn't see. When she had finished, she helped Cosette sit back down on the bed and went to get her clipboard.

"Just as I'd imagined; a fever with a temperature of one hundred and two. You're grossly underweight, child. Your blood sugar is low. And quite the case of anemia…"

Cosette blinked at the healer, not understanding the medical lingo at all.

"Do you know if diabetes runs in your family?"

Cosette wrinkled her brow.

"What's a diabetes?"

Pomfrey shook her head and went back to her clipboard.

"From what I see here, Ms. Potter, you have not been taking good care of yourself. Do you follow a normal dietary pattern, or do you skip meals often?"

The way in which she asked Cosette told her she already knew the answer. She dropped her head and let her hair hide her face and shrugged her shoulders.

"You must keep yourself healthy; not eating properly leads to malnourishment, something you are struggling with. That is why you are so faint and dizzy and so susceptible to disease. You are also highly anemic…"

At this point, Cosette began to panic. The nurse was telling her she had some horrible disease she never heard of and she couldn't help but think that she was probably going to die within a week. Pomfrey picked up on her panic and tried to calm her.

"You will be alright, as long as you start eating regularly. I will create a carefully assembled diet to help you, as well as some vitamin-enriched and blood-replenishing potions. Though I must say, the damage seems to have affected you a lot, and it will take a while to get you healthy again. Which leads me to strongly wonder, when was your last physical?"

Cosette sniffed pitifully.

"M-My last what?"

This answer was not a good one, for Pomfrey's face had twitched a shade darker and more severe. She approached Cosette tentatively.

"Ms. Potter, I want you to take this hospital gown and change into it behind the curtain." She pointed to the curtain hung on a metal bar around the bed.

Nervously, Cosette accepted the materialized hospital gown and made to stand up. Pomfrey came to her side to help her up, and didn't let go until she was satisfied that she wouldn't topple over. Cosette fumbled with the gown. It was thin and her back was completely bare, and it was only held together by a few paper thin strings. Cosette was terrified. She had never gone through something like this before in her entire life, and she didn't know what to expect, and she didn't know if she had done something wrong. What is it that Pomfrey wanted, and why did she sound so angry? Could it be that you got in trouble for being sick in the wizarding world? Could it be that if you got sick with stupid muggle diseases, they thought you weren't worth it anymore and they sent you back?

When she came out, she hesitantly approached where the very stern nurse was standing. She surveyed Cosette with a look of deliberation. Nervously, she fidgeted with the gown, trying to make it cover more skin. She sniffled again, hating how clogged up her nose was.

The first thing Madam Pomfrey did was tell her to lie on the bed. Terrified, she obeyed, stiffly laying down. Her aged fingers poked in places around her abdomen as she asked her questions like did she start her cycle. Cosette, not knowing what that even meant, but pretty sure she hadn't started a cycle of any sort, answered no. Madam Pomfrey then put something cold on her chest and told her to take a deep breath. Cosette tried to, but she ended up coughing heavily. Pomfrey eased her into a sitting position to help her with her coughing. They were painful and tears sprung into her eyes as she coughed on. Her throat was dry and she couldn't help but let a few tears fall.

When she finally calmed down, Cosette hastily wiped her tears away with her hand and sniffled again. She began to shiver, and Pomfrey waved her wand around Cosette and she suddenly felt much warmer, but the shivers didn't lessen by much.

"Now stand up and turn around for me," she said to her in a motherly tone, which didn't help Cosette feel any better.

She stood carefully and waited as she saw Pomfrey walk behind her. The woman's hands grabbed her stringy hair and pushed it out of the way. Thanks to the design of the gown, her back was bare and with the lack of her hair, she felt a cold draft. Cosette waited several anxious seconds for Pomfrey to continue to poke and prod her with magical doctor tools, but she felt nothing. When curiosity got the better of her, she tilted her head to the side and peered over her shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey was standing there, poise straight, staring at her back with a grave, tensed expression. Her mouth was pinched into a tight, thin line and her eyes regarded the expanse of her with a look Cosette couldn't identify. She only knew that the look scared her, as she felt she did something wrong again.

After a few more moments, Pomfrey addressed her again, calmly laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Cosette, I want you to sit down on the bed for me, please. I need to compose a message."

The fact that she used her first name startled her, and the way she uttered it, so softly and kind, worried Cosette. She did as she was told as Pomfrey turned and went to her small office. The light switched on and she heard her shuffling about. It was several minutes before Cosette saw the woman return. After sneezing in a succession of three times, Pomfrey stood before her.

"Lay back child, and get under the covers. I know you must be cold."

Gratefully, Cosette let the healer arrange herself under the blanket and pull it up to her chin. She then left for a few seconds and returned with a bottle of some potion.

"Here, I want you to drink this; it will make you feel better."

Cosette gingerly grabbed the bottle with shaking fingers. Pomfrey helped her steady it to her lips to keep her from spilling it. The liquid tasted awful, but almost instantly, Cosette felt herself calming down. Her shivering lessened and her head felt somewhat clearer. Suddenly, Cosette's eyes felt very heavy, and she was soon lulled into sleep with the feeling of Madam Pomfrey gently stroking her cheek in a tender manner Cosette had never known before.

Harry wanted to visit Ron in the Hospital Wing to tell him that Quirrell had finally cracked, but Hermione insisted that they do homework since they would be serving their detention that evening and they only had an hour to spare in the common room. Harry grudgingly agreed and began work on an essay from Snape on fever curing potions and various ingredients that boosted or inhibited the effects of various formulas.

The hour wore by monotonously, and Harry was very grateful to be able to push his essay aside, even if it was to go to detention with Hermione. The two of them said goodnight to everyone else in the common room and exited the portrait hole and made their way down to McGonagall's office, unsure of how they would be serving their detention. They got down there to meet McGonagall who was busily working over some papers. Neville was already there, as well to Harry's horror, was Malfoy. Malfoy looked up venomously at Harry; Harry ignored him and went to sit next to Neville shortly followed by Hermione.

The group waited in silence for Professor McGonagall to say something. Malfoy was by far the least patient and he finally broke the silence.

"Excuse me Professor, but what exactly are we doing for our detention?" Malfoy asked.

"You will be helping Hagrid with something in the forest. Filch should be along in a moment to bring you down to Hagrid," McGonagall said without looking up from her work.

Malfoy seemed to pale slightly. Harry had to admit he did not fancy the idea of going into the forest in the middle of the night, either.

"The forest? I thought students weren't allowed," Malfoy said.

"They are not permitted to wander off in the forest, but given proper permission and supervision we can make an exception."

"But there are werewolves running around in the forest!" Malfoy protested.

McGonagall seemed to ignore Malfoy. Harry began find himself liking the idea of going into the forest less and less. Were there really werewolves in the forest? He had not the slightest clue what a werewolf was precisely from defense class but he was pretty sure he did not want to meet one. McGonagall wasn't even saying anything; she was sending them into the forest to be mauled by a werewolf!

It was then that Filch entered the room, glowering. He surveyed the group and then addressed them.

"Alright, come on you lot, we best get you down the forest."

The group made to follow very uncomfortably. Filch held a lantern above his head and was mostly silent until they reached the main entrance out onto the courtyard where claps of thunder could be distinctly heard. Filch opened the door to reveal heavy rain drops filling muddy puddles outside. Harry looked passed Filch and saw that the gale was not unlike the one that Uncle Vernon had rowed through last summer, though this one was a winter storm, so it was noticeably colder. Filch stepped out apparently unaffected by the gale and motioned that they were to follow. Harry and Neville made to do just that, but Harry stopped and noticed that neither Hermione nor Malfoy had taken a single step. Malfoy was quick to voice his reasons.

"I'm not going out there!" Malfoy said.

"I think you'll find you are," Filch said sharply.

Harry couldn't help but think that Malfoy must be against the rain due to fear of melting like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz.

"This is ridiculous! I don't want to get wet. Besides this is servant stuff!"

"Well down in Hogwarts even servants are above students," Filch said. "Or would you rather I give you the old fashioned punishment? I could hang you by your thumbs in the dungeons." Filch gave an unpleasant grin.

Malfoy paled slightly at that and mumbled something about his father hearing about this before hesitantly walking out.

Filch immediately turned and began walking down the hillside towards Hagrid's hut. Harry gave Hermione a reassuring nod before the two of them walked out into the storm, shortly followed by Neville.

The wind caught Harry off guard somewhat, and Harry nearly lost his footing twice on the muddy slope. Harry got some satisfaction however in seeing that Malfoy was walking very nervously with his hands over his head and he had lost his footing and fell four times while walking down the slope.

By the time they reached Hagrid's hut, Malfoy was beyond miserable and was complaining loudly about being forced to be out here and would never stop insisting about how furious his father would be. Filch ignored them and raised his lantern, peering around for Hagrid. Hagrid appeared with Fang by his side, a crossbow, and three large lanterns.

"Sorry about this lot Hagrid," Filch said, raising his voice above the gale.

Hagrid shook his head.

"It's fine."

"We can't really be going into the forest, can we?" Harry asked. "After all, it's dangerous in there. They're werewolves!"

"You'll find more than werewolves in that forest," Filch said, eying Harry with unquestionable dislike.

The rain seemed to be letting up some as Filch turned to Hagrid.

"I'll be back at dawn, to collect whatever's left of them…" Filch said as he began to make his way back up towards the castle. "Nighty-night."

Hagrid handed Harry and Neville a lantern and nodded towards the forest.

"Anyone need a warmer cloak?" Hagrid asked pulling a bundle of dry, quilt-like cloaks from the depths of his overcoat.

Harry shivered slightly and only then realized how cold he actually was as the rain reduced itself to a light drizzle. Harry graciously exchanged his wet cloak for the dry one, which smelled strongly of the interior of a barn, much like Hagrid's hut. Everyone else followed suit, with the exception of Malfoy. He eyed the cloak as if it insulted him.

The group proceeded into the forest. Heavy drops of water fell from the branches of the thick trees around them. It was a foreboding forest, with thick gray trees growing closely together and a light mist above the muddy ground. It was easy to see where the forest got its name. The group followed the light of Hagrid's lantern down a narrow, muddy path. They were walking for several minutes, and Harry was beginning to wonder what exactly they would be doing when Hagrid came to a stop so sudden that Harry nearly walked into him.

Harry walked over to Hagrid's side, wondering what it was he was looking at. Hagrid crouched over with his lantern to examine a silvery puddle Harry mistook for rain water in the present light. Hagrid then dipped two fingers into the puddle and Harry realized that it was definitely not rain water as it rippled thickly like syrup. Hagrid drew a sample of the liquid up to eye level to examine with the aid of the lantern. It was then that Harry could see that the liquid, whatever it was, was a very silvery, very oily sort of liquid that seemed to vibrate slightly with Hagrid's touch.

"Umm… Hagrid, what exactly is that?"

"This is what we are here for…" Hagrid said presenting the sample of the liquid to the group. "This here is unicorn blood. I found one dead a couple weeks back. This one however, by the looks of it, has been hurt bad."

"You mean someone's been hunting unicorns?" Neville asked.

"More likely something, I can't imagine that any person would be senseless enough to kill a unicorn. Powerful magical creatures they are. Killing one leaves a mark, you can bet on that."

"It could be a werewolf…" Harry said.

Hagrid didn't say anything.

"So then," Hagrid finally spoke. "It's our job to try and find the poor beast, an' if we're lucky, catch a glimpse of whatever's been killin' them."

"A werewolf?" Harry said.

Hagrid gave Harry a wary glance. He shook his head.

"I don't think it's a werewolf. It's not a full moon."

"Brilliant, Potter," Malfoy sneered. Harry gave him a withering look.

Despite this, Harry couldn't help but continue thinking about the possibility when suddenly there was a sound like a cloak dragging over dead leaves. Hagrid was silent as the group listened to the noise. It was rather eerie since Harry could not imagine who could be out in the forest.

"So then, I think it best we split up into two groups. Don't worry; as long as you four are with me or Fang you'll be safe enough," Hagrid reassured, seeing their horrified expressions. "Hermione and Harry, you come with me. Neville and Malfoy you go with Fang," Hagrid said before turning to address specifically Neville and Malfoy. "If you two are in any danger an' need help, send red sparks into the air with yer wands."

Harry nodded and the two respective groups headed off in opposite directions. They were walking for several minutes before they came to a small muddy clearing illuminated by a rare shaft of moonlight from the now clear sky. Harry gasped in surprise as he saw movement in the shadows by the edge of the clearing. Hagrid seemed to notice too, as he stopped very quickly, while Hermione seemed to wonder why they had paused. She too soon realized what was going on as there was a second movement from the shadows, when quite suddenly, a very tall man came out into the clearing, only it wasn't entirely man. Its upper body was very obviously that of a male as it was clothed in nothing but the leather strap of a quiver it held on its back, but the rest of its body seemed to be that of a horse.

"Evening Bane," Hagrid said addressing the centaur.

"Mars is especially bright this evening," was Bane's short reply.

Hagrid blinked.

"Er… right. By any chance, have you seen anythin' funny this evenin'?"

"The moon is half full, yet it is shining as if full," Bane said as if this was a satisfactory answer.

"Can werewolves come out if the moon is only _shining_ like it's full?" Harry asked.

Bane seemed to ignore him as he continued to dreamingly look up into the sky. There was a long silence in which Harry felt a sudden wave of surprise as he spotted two other centaurs by Bane's side that he had not seen in the gloom earlier.

"Umm… well yeh… see the thing is, somethin' has been killin' unicorns aroun' 'ere," Hagrid said, ignoring Harry's question.

"The innocent are always the first to die."

"That's nice…" Hagrid said, beginning to lose his patience. "Have you seen anythin'?"

"Mars is especially bright this evening…" Bane said, parroting his earlier words.

Hagrid let out a slight sigh of frustration.

"Well, if yeh see anythin' you will let us know, I hope."

"Those without the power to see have no right to know," was Bane's cryptic reply.

"Right, whatever you say," Hagrid turned to Harry and Hermione. "Let's go, we won't be gettin' any straight answers from them."

Harry thought that the centaurs might have taken offense to this, but none of them seemed to be listening. On the contrary, they were all staring dreamingly at the sky completely ignorant about what was going on around them.

Hagrid lead the group off on a path, away from the clearing, leaving the centaurs to do whatever it was they were doing. They were walking for a bit, when they heard a high pitched girl-like scream some yards away. Hagrid turned in the direction of the scream to see red sparks fly into the air and began to run towards them. Harry was somewhat surprised how quickly Hagrid's lumbering form could move as he made to keep up, Hermione following shortly behind. They didn't have to run far to find the source of the scream, it was Malfoy. He and Neville had come across what must have been the oddest creature he had ever seen.

It was a humanoid creature who was dancing jovially on a tree stump. Harry noted that its feet were goat's hooves as they clacked loudly against the wood beneath them as it played a merry tune on its pipe. In fact, its entire lower body was that of a goat, and much like the centaurs, its upper body was that of a man, only not nearly as muscular and hairless, and it had two small goat horns protruding out of its curly hair. The creature stopped playing momentarily to observe the growth of the group.

"Excellent! Now we can really make-merry!" it said through a strange drawl.

The creature looked at the group, his features becoming less and less jovial.

"There are no young ladies in our midst; it is enough to drive a satyr to drink!"

"Doesn't take much anyway," Hagrid snorted.

The satyr gave a very warm laugh that seemed to ring through the air and give a tickling sense of euphoria.

"I'm a young lady!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Aye, that you are young lass," the satyr said smiling down at her. "Come find me again in about five years and we shall make much merry!"

Hermione looked at the satyr oddly, not entirely understanding his meaning.

"Don' mean to be rude or nothin' but we have a job to do. Have you seen anythin' funny aroun' here?"

"Priapus!" the satyr said suddenly as he took a bow.

The group all looked at him, wondering how the word helped them.

"What?" Harry said confused.

"And what be your namesake?" the satyr asked eagerly to no one in particular.

"Umm… Harry?"

"A pleasure to meet you Harry the Confused!"

"What?" Harry said living up to his new title.

"What be your namesake young man, gifted with femme lungs?"

Malfoy seemed to be less scared of this creature than he initially was.

"That's Draco Malfoy to you!" he said indignantly.

"Draco the Femme!" the satyr said.

The satyr seemed to be much more concerned with getting acquainted with those in the group than anything else, which was not missed by Harry, to be the complete opposite of the centaurs.

"And you?" Priapus stared eagerly at Neville, who was trying to hide deeper into his cloak.

"Me? N-Neville…" he grumbled out quietly.

"Neville the Round!" the satyr clapped.

"Again, this chit-chat is lovely an' all…"

"Isn't it always?" Priapus said, interrupting Hagrid.

"But we have an important job to do…"

"What be your namesake?" Priapus said, addressing Hagrid.

"Hagrid…" Hagrid mumbled.

"Hagrid the Mammoth!"

Hagrid rubbed his eyes growing impatient.

"Have you seen anythin' funny runnin' about in the forest?"

"Yourselves!"

"Sorry I asked…" Hagrid said, realizing that the satyr would be no more helpful than the centaurs.

"Now then, what be your namesake dear little lass with hair of femme-bush?"

Harry did not understand this at all, but these words seemed to trigger something in Hagrid.

"Alright, there will be enough of that!" Hagrid imposed threateningly.

The satyr looked up fearfully at Hagrid's daunting form.

"Be off with you! Go on, get!"

The satyr didn't need to be told twice as his goat-like ears folded back. He scampered off his tree stump and ran off on all fours into the forest at a rather remarkable speed.

Hagrid sighed rubbing his head in a tiresome manner.

"Well that was a dry hole…" Hagrid looked down at the group. "I think it best we split up again. Only I think you should have someone to keep you from screaming at everythin' that moves," Hagrid said looking at Malfoy.

"Hermione, Neville, you come with me. Harry, you go with this idiot, and take Fang with you."

The two groups again departed. Harry and Malfoy were silent for several minutes until Harry shot Malfoy a grin.

"So… Draco the Femme?"

"Shut it, Potter! Don't you have werewolves to cower from?"

"At least I'm afraid of something rather rational. Look at you, squealing like a girl at the sight of Priapus playing his flute!"

"I don't squeal like a girl!" Malfoy said indignantly.

"I thought it was Hermione until I saw her standing next to me!"

Malfoy was about to retort angrily, when he suddenly froze. Harry followed his gaze, and spotted a hooded figure that lay crouched over, some mere feet away from them, barely visible above the mist on the ground. It was with some effort that Harry saw what was unmistakably a dead unicorn lying underneath it. The hooded figure raised its head to look at him, nothing but the shiny unicorn blood cloud be seen on his shadowed lips. Very suddenly, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead as Malfoy let out yet another high pitched scream and ran quickly in the direction they came from, Fang close by his heels. Harry felt as though his head was about to be split open as he tried his best to get away from the hooded figure which seemed to be gliding towards him. He backpedaled to the tree roots, forgetting they were even there as he tripped over them, becoming tangled in his quilt-like robe as he tried to find his wand. The figure was getting closer to his helpless form. Harry desperately tried to stand up and pull the cloak off of him, but by then the figure was already on top of him. It was going to kill him! He was going to need a miracle!

Very suddenly, Harry had thought he got one, when the figure shirked back abruptly. He soon realized that it was trying to avoid a centaur which was charging forward at it from the direction Harry had originally come. The centaur jumped over Harry and charged the figure down which glided quickly away and disappeared into the shadows. The centaur Harry could see now was not Bane, but another with blonde hair oppose to black, startlingly blue eyes and a tanned body that matched the horse portion of its body fairly well.

"Harry Potter, great sadness permeates from the sky. It is not safe for you to be here tonight."

"Was that a werewolf?"

The centaur furrowed its brow slightly.

"No, it was a monstrous creature far worse. Drinking the blood of a Unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. For you have slayed something so innocent that you will have a cursed life. You may be saved from death, but the way in which you were saved will make you wish you were dead."

"So what exactly was it?"

"Who," the centaur corrected him. "Who was it? There will be time to answer that question later however, you must leave the forest, and quickly. Climb on my back, it will be quicker that way," the centaur said, as he crouched down to allow Harry to climb on his back.

Harry quickly did as he was told, when there was suddenly a bit of rustling from the edge of the ditch. Bane and another red-haired centaur appeared out of the gloom.

"Firenze, what are you doing? Are you a common mule? A means by which humans ferry themselves from one given place to their destination?"

"Do you not realize who this is? This is Harry Potter!"

Bane looked even more livid at this.

"What have you said to him? You know what the heavens tell as well as I do. What shall come to pass shall be and we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens, lest we lose ourselves in a desperate attempt to change what is set!"

"I am sure Firenze feels he is acting for the best…" the second centaur said grimly.

Bane pawed the ground beneath him in anger.

"For the best! We centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold. It is not our concern or responsibility to ferry stray humans out of the forest."

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze said angrily. "Do you not know why it has died, or have the planets kept that from you? I set myself against what should not be in the forest, not what should be in the sky, and yes I will do it with humans alongside me if I must!"

With that, Firenze turned fully around and ran from the ditch, Harry clutching on for dear life. He was thoroughly confused and did not understand at all what had happened. Firenze ran for a bit more before finally coming to a slow walk. When Harry asked what had happened, Firenze simply warned him to keep an eye out for low hanging branches. There were several moments of silence until finally Harry asked a second question.

"So who was that you saved me from?"

"Who would drink the blood of a unicorn?" Was Firenze's quick reply.

It was an odd question that Harry was not sure how to answer; it obviously wasn't a werewolf...

"Someone who was trying not to die…"

"Someone very desperate not to die," Firenze said simply. "Someone with nothing to lose but everything to gain."

Harry thought these words over for a moment.

"You said unicorn blood will keep you alive, but will make you wish you were dead?"

"Yes."

"But who could possibly be desperate enough to choose such a life? Would it not be better to simply die?"

"It depends on how desperate you are to live and what the present circumstances are. Do you not know what is hidden in the castle at this very moment?"

This was an easy question to answer.

"The Philosopher's Stone!"

"Exactly. That creature is sustaining itself with unicorn blood, waiting for something that will return it to full strength."

"But all the same, who would be that desperate? Especially to rely on the possibility of getting such a heavily guarded item?"

"Can you think of no one?"

Harry thought for a moment. Snape was his first thought, but even Snape was not desperate enough to go through all this trouble to get the stone, nor was he in a desperate enough position to need unicorn blood.

"No one comes to mind? Think, just think. Who has clung desperately onto life for years since his notorious fall?"

It was then that something clicked in Harry's head, and he remembered something that Hagrid had told him in summer: "Well no one really knows. Some say he died, others simply think he's out there still too tired to carry on…"

The figure drinking the Unicorn blood was Voldemort! It must be, it made too much sense.

"Are you saying that person…? That thing… That was Voldemort?"

Firenze gave no reply as he continued to walk. Harry felt his silence answered the question because from the way Firenze spoke, if he had said something wrong he would have given him a hint in the right direction. It was after a long pause that Harry finally noticed something else. Firenze didn't flinch at Voldemort's name like everyone else seemed to do.

Harry wasn't sure what to say, but was soon alleviated of the need to do so as the others came into view. Harry dismounted rather gratefully and Hermione ran up to him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine," Harry responded.

"Alright there, Firenze?" Hagrid said, giving a glance to the centaur.

Firenze nodded grimly and turned to Harry.

"Harry Potter, this is where I leave you. You're safe with Hagrid. Leave the forest as soon as you can."

Harry simply nodded in response as Firenze turned around and vanished into the many shadows. Nothing but his hazy outline could be made out as he galloped away.

Everyone looked expectantly at Harry.

"I don't know any more than you do…" Harry said, looking at Malfoy. "The hooded figure was charged down by a centaur and disappeared, and then the centaur brought me here." Harry figured he would save the revelation that the figure was Voldemort for when he was alone with Hermione.

"Did Firenze say anything?" Hagrid asked.

"No," Harry lied.

Hagrid cocked an eyebrow, as if this was a very fishy thing indeed.

"Only that we should all get out of the forest quickly…" Harry said, hoping this alleviated some suspicion.

It didn't seem to, but Hagrid did not pursue the subject.

"Well centaurs do know a thing or two, they jus' don't let on that they do, an' if one says we should not be in the forest I ain't goin' to argue. Especially after all tha's happened so far."

The group turned and left the forest. They went up to Hagrid's hut where a warm fire was going. They all huddled close to it with blankets that Hagrid gave them as he made hot tea. They waited for dawn, when Filch would take them back up the castle rather impatiently. No one said anything.

Filch's arrival was marked with several sharp knocks on the door, and the group grabbed the wet cloaks Hagrid was holding for them and walked back up to the castle with Filch. The centaurs were right; the moon was shining very bright. At the moment, it was shining more brightly than the twilight sun. First they went up to Gryffindor tower where Filch watched to be sure they went inside, before escorting Malfoy to the Slytherin common room.

Harry was grateful that Neville went straight to bed. He deserved the rest as he never deserved to get in trouble in the first place, plus he wanted to tell Hermione what he found out in private.

"Goodnight Neville," Harry said.

"Aren't you coming?" Neville asked lazily.

"I'll be up in a bit…" Harry said.

Neville didn't say anything as he continued up the stairs. As soon as Neville was out of earshot, Harry sat down eager to explain to Hermione what had happened.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"In the forest. The hooded figure that Malfoy told you about?"

Hermione nodded.

"It was Voldemort!"

Hermione flinched at the name and looked at him skeptically , then paled considerably.

"How do you know?"

"Firenze told me," Harry explained simply. "Voldemort is out there, but he's weak… Very weak… He's drinking unicorn blood to sustain himself until he can return to full strength."

"How is he going to return to full strength?" Hermione asked in a quiet, fearful tone.

"The Philosopher's Stone!"

"But… How exactly is he going to get it?" Hermione asked, a bit less quiet then before. "I mean if the stone is so heavily guarded, and You-know-who is so weak… I mean it won't be possible."

Harry puzzled over the question for several minutes before something else clicked in his head.

"Snape! He's not trying to steal the stone for himself, he wants it for Voldemort. Voldemort did have followers after all. Once Snape has the stone… Voldemort will come back…"

There was silence as both students stared at the dying embers of the fire as the sun rolled into the sky.

Suddenly, the portrait hole opened and in walked a very grim looking Ron from the Hospital Wing. Harry wasted no time in having Ron sit down so he could explain everything. Ron said nothing as he explained everything they found out. He seemed to be distracted by something else, something that was apparently important because he didn't even notice when Harry said Voldemort's name.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry said finally when he realized Ron wasn't really paying attention.

Ron looked over at Harry, meeting his gaze.

"Harry… Your sister is in the Hospital Wing…" Ron said rather awkwardly.

All thoughts of Voldemort, the stone, and Snape were instantly blown from Harry's mind.


	19. To Calm the Beast

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 19<p>

To Calm the Beast

Harry had all but inhaled his breakfast that morning in his rush to make it to the Hospital Wing. Ron's message the previous night about his sister's appearance there made him eager to find out what was wrong with her. He said he didn't know himself what was wrong with her other than what Madam Pomfrey was grumbling and busying herself in keeping Cosette bed-ridden and taking all her meals there.

"I wonder if enema is contagious," Ron wondered while stuffing his mouth with eggs.

"It's anemia," Hermione gave Ron a look, who simply shrugged. "And no, it isn't."

"Whatever it is, I have to go see her," Harry said as he got up from the table. He wasn't very hungry anymore.

Hermione got up with him and they both looked expectantly at Ron. He briefly looked up from his breakfast only when he felt their gazes.

"What?" he asked, mouth full of food.

"Are you coming?" Hermione asked.

Ron's face pinched up and he swallowed heavily.

"No way, I've seen about enough of the Hospital Wing, thank you very much," he grumbled turning back to his food.

Harry sighed.

"I'll see you later then." He nodded his head and both he and Hermione were off.

When they entered the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was busy in the far corner of the room, fussing over one patient who was feverishly fighting off whatever it was that she was trying to give them. The person in the bed was kicking about as Madam Pomfrey physically restrained them.

"No—! I don't—! No!"

Harry recognized the voice immediately as his sister. His heart skipped as he fearfully thought what horrible thing Madam Pomfrey was trying to force feed his sister. Finally, with a surrendering huff, the healer released her and stood back.

"Honestly, fine! I give up! Though I never had a student turn down Chocolate Frogs!" she grumbled and turned away, shoving the wriggling creature back in its box. "You'll just have to take the supplement potions then, and I'm sorry to say they don't taste nearly as good as the chocolate!"

She harrumphed and walked away, giving Harry and Hermione sight to Cosette sitting on the bed looking paler than usual, sickly and miserable. Cosette's eyes, which were staring at the floor, shot up when she heard them approach.

"Er…hi," Harry said, though the greeting sounded terribly inefficient.

Cosette didn't say anything; she just stared at him with a frown and sniffed. Feeling awkward standing about, Harry sat in the chair closest to his sister, Hermione took the other one.

"Are you okay?" he asked, watching as his twin began worrying the hospital gown she was wearing.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, then sniffed loudly, mucus and snot garbling her breathing. Harry cringed.

"You don't sound fine," Harry frowned.

"It's just a fever…Madam Pomfrey said it's spread to a lot of students this year."

"Then what was that all about?" he asked in reference to their earlier tussle.

Cosette's face darkened and she sniffed noisily again, this time wiping some of her snot on her sleeve.

"She says I have low blood sugar and I need to eat more sweets…but…I _hate _Chocolate Frogs."

Harry nodded his head, remembering how she stared in pure horror at the sweets on the train.

"She also says I have anemia. It means I don't have enough red blood cells. She has me on a strict diet with lots of meat. She won't let me leave the Hospital Wing…" her eyes drifted away to stare into the corner.

"And how do you feel now?" Harry gulped.

Cosette shrugged. Her attitude didn't seem to improve with her getting ill, and Harry briefly wondered if her sickness made her even more irritable.

He felt horrible that his twin was sick in the Hospital Wing and felt even worse because he wasn't there sooner. He hadn't even noticed her missing from classes yesterday. He was too worked up with his findings about the Philosopher's Stone and stopping Snape to pay much attention to anything recently, and it made him feel dreadful. It also didn't help that ever since last night, his scar had been burning awfully, and he couldn't sleep a wink last night as the scar was giving him terrible headaches. Not even the knowledge that his invisibility cloak had been returned mysteriously to his bed had helped.

"We just found out. Harry was really concerned all of last night, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him see you, then. She said it was too late for visitors. He was really worried about you."

Harry looked over at Hermione, thankful that she was trying to help things between him and his twin and he appreciated her support. Hopefully Cosette would understand.

However, Cosette just turned her bloodshot eyes to Hermione and just sort of stared at her, as if she didn't know who exactly she was or why she was even there.

They lapsed into a long few minutes of silence. It was odd. This year seemed to be nothing but one tumultuous endeavor of one awkward conversation with Cosette after another. It seemed like right after summer, their easy conversations had all but disappeared, and his sister was closing herself off to him, and he didn't know how to respond to it. He didn't know how to handle her sudden lack of interactions. He could no longer read her expressions and understand her communications. It was as if she was completely shutting herself off to him and it left him clumsily stumbling about for things to say. It was almost like talking to a completely different person, and it hurt. He wished he knew how to fix it, but they had never been in a situation like this before.

Harry didn't stay long after. After several more pointless minutes of trying to come up with some sort of conversation, Harry gave up in frustration and left. Cosette had simply shrugged off any attempts he made to instigate conversation, and so with a half-hearted farewell, Harry and Hermione left her to her sulking. She stared after them blankly, red nose running and frown bent on her face.

Cosette had spent the latter of the day before in a bleary haze. Whatever potion Pomfrey had given her did well to knock her out for a while, and whenever she did manage to grow some consciousness, it was always with a foggy haze. She remembered only one incident of her wakening. Her muscles felt heavy and slow as she tried to move them, and any attempts were immediately thwarted. What had roused her from her delirious sleep was Pomfrey's rather loud voice addressing someone from her office.

"—mistreated children, and it seems to be a trend in the Slytherin house. I am surprised you don't do more to help alleviate the problem."

"Calm yourself, Poppy, I assure you I have her best interests in heart and everything is going to be taken care of." She didn't immediately recognize the voice, but after her mind cleared a bit, she noticed the elderly cracking in the voice to belong to Headmaster Dumbledore.

She heard the healer huff, a habit the woman did quite frequently.

"I will not ask any questions, Albus, you know I never do, but I will keep her in my care for at least a week. She needs to build up her strength and I have to make sure she sticks to her diet. It is obvious that her body is so susceptible to diseases, is no doubt the reason to her sudden high temperature. I will inform Severus that she will not be attending her classes at this time."

"Very well, Poppy, I know you will take excellent care of our little patient," Dumbledore returned.

"I would professionally insist upon seeing her brother Harry Potter as well, but I am sure you will tell me it is unnecessary."

Was there a hint of resentfulness in her voice?

"I assure you that the boy is eating much healthier than his sister and is doing quite well. Now if you would excuse me, Poppy, I must be going."

Cosette heard the door to Pomfrey's office open and Cosette pretended to be asleep again as she heard the shuffle of Dumbledore's robe as he left.

The following weeks did not go well for Cosette. Madam Pomfrey assessed after the first week that she needed a second week in the Hospital Wing, much to the displeasure of Cosette.

"I can't send you out now. You just got better, but you are still very weak. I will not have you go out to get sick again!"

"But I'll miss my classes…" Cosette said miserably.

"Your professors will excuse you, drink this; it will help you get your strength back."

Cosette very grudgingly accepted the potion and began to feel the usual wave of exhaustion wash over her.

She had a rather bizarre dream involving Hagrid, but for some reason he was riding a unicycle and talking to a large group of Hogwarts students. She had no clue what was going on, so she investigated the group. The group all turned to face her and she saw that it was made up entirely of many different copies of the different girls from her dorm. They all began to yell at her for not being in class. Cosette looked helplessly to Hagrid, but Hagrid could not help. He had lost control of his unicycle and was rolling away into the forest. She turned and ran as fast as she could, the group of girls chasing after her, but her own feet felt sluggish. She had no idea what they were going to do to her but she knew she did not want to be caught. She entered the castle to find the halls filled with the many faceless people who had terrorized her. They pushed and shoved her this way and that as she ran through the halls to get away from them. Very suddenly her brother and his two friends appeared at the end of the hallway. She ran towards him desperately but when she reached him he didn't even seem to notice her as he walked by her jovially with his friends. He disappeared into the swarm of people chasing her as they quickly caught up. They all grabbed her forcefully and dragged her out onto the grounds towards the lake. They lifted her above their heads and tossed her into the lake, and the instant before she hit the water, she woke up.

Her head felt awfully foggy but her heart was racing. As if her dream was actually real which she was relieved to find now that it wasn't. She looked around and realized that it was very dark in the Hospital Wing. She listened to the wind scraping across the trees of the forbidden forest in the distance. The absolute silence of the Hospital Wing was very eerie. She could hear distant banging noises echoing up and down the empty hallways of the castle. She looked around and realized that no one was there. She could theoretically get up and leave and escape Madam Pomfrey.

She slowly threw back the covers, shivering as cold air reached her frail body. She slowly climbed out of the bed, feeling more sick and dizzy as she did. She tried her best to steady herself as she felt her bare feet grow numb against the stone floor. She looked around, where had Madam Pomfrey put her clothes? She didn't want to walk through the cold castle wearing the hospital gown, that was for sure.

She began to walk slowly across the Hospital Wing, checking the place she had changed weeks earlier for her clothes which were not there. She tried Pomfrey's office but found it to be locked. She continued to search rather helplessly when she finally gave up. She would make for her dormitory and change there. Cosette tried her best to hold the hospital gown in the most covering way possible as she made to open the main entrance to the Hospital wing. The second she stepped out, she ran rather abruptly into who else, but Madam Pomfrey, who looked quite odd in her night gown and with her hair untied.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Pomfrey asked sternly.

Cosette didn't say anything.

"Get back in bed, it's freezing. You'll get sick all over again in your condition!"

Cosette, utterly terrified, quickly did as she was told. Madam Pomfrey escorted her all the way, as if she didn't trust her to do as she said, and that she would try to leave again the minute her back was turned. The healer grumbled under her breath as she tucked Cosette in tight enough so that Cosette didn't think she could move any of her limbs under the tightened sheet.

"And don't even think about trying to get out of this bed, I'll hex you two it if I have to!"

Cosette's eyes widened, fully believing that Madam Pomfrey was capable of going through with her threat. She wouldn't doubt that if she didn't do as she was told, Pomfrey would poison her potions or something. Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain and walked back out of the Hospital Wing, closing the door and locking it. Cosette panicked slightly, thinking that Madam Pomfrey intended to gas the room or something, but she dare not get out of bed as the hours passed by and she drifted into a very uncomfortable sleep.

Harry had quite a lot on his plate. Not only was Hermione insisting they study more and more, Quidditch practice was becoming increasingly time consuming as the next match against Ravenclaw approached. Not only that, he was preoccupied with thoughts regarding his sister's health and even further in the back of his mind was Snape and the Stone. He had managed to convince himself that as long as Dumbledore was in the castle Snape would not try anything; after all, Dumbledore was the only wizard that Voldemort feared. He figured that the stone must be safe for the time being, otherwise Voldemort would be walking over the threshold of the castle right now.

Exams were to be held sometime after the Easter holiday and Hermione would not leave Ron or Harry alone, emphasizing that they only have a little over a month to prepare for exams and if they failed they would not get into second year. Ron did not enjoy this nagging behavior at all but Harry was rather grateful to be able to distract himself from his thoughts. He couldn't help but feel ill at ease seeing as Cosette was yet to return to class. He eventually decided to make a point to visit her daily, and she was able to explain to him that Madam Pomfrey simply felt it necessary to hold her in the Hospital Wing until she regained her strength. He was simply relieved that she was improving.

"So what are you going to be doing about exams?" Harry asked on one such occasion.

Cosette was sitting up in her bed and shrugged.

"Madam Pomfrey says that the professors would make arrangements to make up the schoolwork I missed…but I haven't heard from any of them. I don't know what I'm gonna do for the exams… Probably fail them."

"Maybe the teachers will let you off easy and let you retake them later," Harry suggested.

"Maybe," she murmured quietly, gazing down at her sheets.

"Well, at least you only have to worry about exams, that's a good thing. I have to worry about Quidditch practice, too."

Cosette furrowed her brows.

"Quidditch sucks," she mumbled under her breath, but Harry didn't respond to it.

"I mean, just yesterday I had taken a bludger to the shoulder and it knocked me off my broom from about twelve feet."

Cosette looked mortified.

"Are you okay…?" she looked at him nervously, as if he would fall apart at any moment.

"Yeah, of course," Harry shrugged. "I mean, it's not like Snape jinxed my broom again or anything."

Cosette furrowed her brows again.

"When did Professor Snape ever jinx your broom?"

Harry gave her a pointed look.

"Don't you remember? The Gryffindor Slytherin match. He made my broom act crazy because he wanted to knock me off it."

It took a few seconds for Cosette to process this. She remembered the incident in painful clarity, what she forgot was Harry's allegation that her Head of House was responsible.

"Yes, I remember," Cosette said gravely. "But I don't remember any proof that Professor Snape cursed your broom."

Though, Harry suddenly took on a somber expression, as if he suddenly remembered something unpleasant.

"Of course he did! He was staring at me from the stands and mumbling something!"

Cosette's face didn't even twitch.

"Oh yes, that explains everything," she said in a dry voice.

However, Harry suddenly seemed to switch into offensive mode. He had spent a good portion of the night worrying whether or not he should include her in what they knew about the Stone. He didn't want to, because he knew it would only worry her and possibly get her in danger, but if she put so much trust into that greasy git, she could very well find herself at risk. She needed to be warned.

"Don't you see? He's the one going after the Philosopher's Stone!" Harry whispered in a stressed voice, trying to convince Cosette that Snape was not to be trusted. "He knew I was on to him so he hexed my broom to try and kill me. He let the troll in so he could try and get passed Fluffy. He has been following Quirrell around to understand how to get passed the protective enchantments. He wants to get his hands on the stone to revive Voldemort!"

Cosette blinked at Harry for several seconds, trying to digest everything he had bombarded her with.

"Wait…what?" she almost yelled.

"Snape is evil, Cosette! Stop defending him! He's working for Voldemort." He had to convince his sister of the truth.

"What are you talking about?" Cosette raised a brow. "I have no idea what you're going on about… what's this about Fluffy, and what does any of this have to do with Voldemort? Isn't he dead?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! Snape is trying to bring him back with the Philosopher's Stone."

There was a whole minute where Cosette just sat there, staring at him as she put the puzzle pieces together, unfortunately, Cosette seemed to come up with a different solution then he did.

"How can you know any of this? And why are you sure that Professor Snape is behind this…this…I don't even know what this rubbish is! What's a Philosopher's Stone? How did you come up with this?"

"Why are you always defending him?" Harry accused.

"I'm not defending him!" Cosette shirked back and said it a bit too loudly for Harry to take seriously. "I'm trying to figure out how your brain works!"

"My brain is working fine!" Harry said defensively.

"Okay…" Cosette took a breath, obviously overwhelmed and looking very agitated and trying to calm down somewhat. "How exactly can you prove Professor Snape was cursing your broom. There were a lot of people staring at you during the match."

"Well, Hermione told me—"

"Who's Hermione?" Cosette broke in, looking exasperated.

"She's my friend, I introduced you to her," Harry explained. How could she not know who Hermione was?

"No you didn't!" Cosette glared. "You've hardly spoken to me all year!"

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but found nothing, for her statement took the breath out of him. For the sheer truth of it was that Harry really hadn't spoken to her that much over the course of the year. Of course, she certainly hadn't made any effort to talk to him either, so who was she to talk?

There was a long awkward silence where neither of them said anything; finally, Harry was able to stitch words together that sounded somewhat worthwhile saying. Maybe if he changed the subject…

"…Exams are coming up…" Harry said, though he immediately wished he didn't.

Cosette simply glared venomously at her brother.

"Hermione was trying to help me with my Herbology work; I just can't seem to understand the function of Devil Snare in night vision potions."

"What is wrong with you? Why don't you leave and plot Snape's death or something, or whatever you do on you spare time? Go talk to this Hermione girl about Herbology, you seem to enjoy talking with her more than me, whoever she is!"

Harry didn't say anything; he felt genuinely guilty and was at a loss for what to say. One thing he was sure of however was that Snape was trying to steal the Stone for Voldemort, and he needed to make this clear to his sister.

"Why do you like Snape so much? If I didn't know better than I'd say you had some form of crush on him!" Harry said a bit more abrasively than he meant to.

Cosette furrowed her brow, a rather disgusted look on her face.

"Where do you get this rubbish? Professor Snape is like fifty or something. You're just being stupid!"

"I'm _not_ stupid! You know what? I'm done. There's no sense talking to you anymore, I don't know why I even bothered coming here."

Cosette's lips pinched tightly together, but she said nothing. Her face had gone from angry, to blank in a fraction of a second, but Harry hadn't noticed. Infuriated, Harry stood up and stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Cosette followed his back with her eyes as he left, her breath slowly coming faster and faster. Her eyes, glaring, became red around the edges and by the time the door shut behind her twin, Cosette had collapsed against the pillow in tears.

The following week Cosette was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing. Very grateful to be out of the hospital, she went immediately to her dormitory to fall into one of the books Grimsdyke had given her. She found the dorm room empty with the exception of Camille Nott and Pansy Parkinson who were giggling loudly in the corner as they whispered various things into one another's ears. She was very grateful that they seemed to ignore her as she went over to her things, shocked at what she found.

Her trunk lay open and on its side, and all her possessions were strewn precariously across and around her bed. She looked at her personal possessions and slowly turned and looked at two girls.

"Something wrong?" Camille giggled loudly, Pansy joined in on the joke that completely escaped Cosette.

"Did you lose some of your stuff?" Parkinson added in a teasing voice.

Cosette didn't say anything as the two girls continued to giggle. She went to investigate the damage done to her belongings. Cosette was very grateful that none of her books seemed to be damaged, just thrown around and left with bent and slightly torn pages. She gathered up all her books and soon realized that one book was damaged, it was volume one of the "Three Mothers", the set of books that Grimsdyke had given her for Christmas. As she investigated the damage, she realized that someone had sat down and ripped out every other page in the book. Cosette thought miserably to herself, she had no hope of reading the first book so what was the point of pursuing the other two. She looked around desperately for the missing pages but realized quickly that they must have been cast into the fire.

She had never been more grateful to have always kept her mother's locket on her person at all times than in that moment. She began looking around some more realizing that most of her clothes were missing, or at least had nasty tears in them that rendered them un-wearable. Cosette slowly realized the only usable uniform and set of robes she had was the one she was wearing. She had no changes of socks or underwear, her Weasley sweater was missing. Worst still, the only other set of clothes she had, her pajamas, were torn up beyond recognition, which was an accomplishment since they were old and tattered to begin with.

She began to slowly and rather miserably collect all of her possessions and place them back in their proper place. She stood there, staring at her damaged and rifled through possessions. She listened as Parkinson and Nott fiddled around with the flute Hagrid had given her. With a sigh she turned to her bed and practically collapsed against it, only to find herself on the floor beneath where her bed should have been. The mattress of her bed had been removed from the wooden bed frame, and she slumped rather painfully into the stone beneath her. She fumbled around helplessly to stand up as the two other girls laughed loudly. She felt herself flush as she regained her footing, her head downcast. She spotted her mattress on the other side of the room and she slowly approached, half expecting Parkinson or Nott to stop her. They simply smiled and watched as she struggled to move the heavy mattress back into its proper place.

"See, I told you she was contagious. Why do you think they kept her in the Hospital Wing this long?" she heard Nott whisper rather loudly to Parkinson. Both girls giggled.

Cosette ignored their words and tripped under the weight of the mattress. It forced her to the ground as it toppled over her. The two girls burst into another fit of giggles. Face burning red, she hauled the weight off her and threw the mattress back into its proper place. Then, not caring that the bed had no sheet, collapsed against it and drew the curtains, trying to blot out the laughs and mean things the girls were saying about her.

As the weeks flew by closer towards break, both twins grew into the habit of avoiding each other at all cost. Cosette had found herself getting quite a few more stares than usual as she found herself wearing the same uniform for days on end. She was far too terrified to approach any teacher about her damaged belongings and clothes, half because half of her books were stolen from the library and half because she was simply too embarrassed about the problem and terrified of what the teachers would say. She didn't really trust adults. By the time she got to the weekend when she could wash them, her clothes were dirty and wrinkled and foul-smelling. People pointed and laughed and a few teachers looked at her with concern, but otherwise didn't do anything. Studying for exams turned out to be a nightmare for Cosette, as she learned that throughout her stay at the Hospital Wing, one of her housemates was supposed to be bringing her their class assignments so she wouldn't be so far behind. Instead, Cosette floundered during class, having no idea what was going on.

It was on a warm Friday afternoon that McGonagall approached her.

"Ms. Potter, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Cosette knew Professor McGonagall well enough to understand that this was a rhetorical question. She immediately began to panic and think of all the things she could possibly be in trouble for as she followed McGonagall to her office.

Professor McGonagall asked Cosette to take a seat and offered her a cup of tea, which Cosette silently declined.

"I have asked to speak with you because I am concerned about several things," McGonagall began. Cosette remained silent.

"Firstly your grades; you are doing very well in Potions, History of Magic, and Transfigurations," McGonagall said sternly. "I would like to note that Potions and Transfiguration are very difficult subjects, as such, you show great promise of becoming an intelligent and powerful witch."

Cosette felt her stomach unclench slightly. Was this praise? From a teacher? Not just any teacher, but Professor McGonagall? She couldn't believe it.

"However," McGonagall continued, Cosette knew it was too perfect. "It seems that your grades show a significant lack of improvement from the past month. What's more, your other grades are nothing to write home about."

Cosette shifted uncomfortable, her head downcast to hide her face behind her wiry hair. She knew any praise would be limited; she wasn't even worth what little praise McGonagall did give her.

"It seems as though you are not keeping up with the class very well. Your recent work shows a lack of understanding of the lesson and as a result, your grades are declining fast. Potions, Transfiguration and History of Magic I would say not to worry too much about, but it draws me to wonder how a child as brilliant as you are, doing well in difficult subjects seems to falter in easier subjects."

Cosette simply shrugged, her head downcast. McGonagall looked at her sternly.

"Ms. Potter, I expect an answer. Why are you falling behind in your classes?"

Cosette fidgeted with her fingers and shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't know…" she said in a voice full of misery.

McGonagall didn't say anything for several moments.

"It seems to me that what has marked your declining grades was your stay at the Hospital Wing. You show a lack of understanding in your lessons, so I can only conclude that you neglected to do the homework that was given to you in the Hospital Wing."

Cosette didn't say anything.

"However, from what Madam Pomfrey tells me, you were very adamant about wanting to leave the Hospital Wing and attend class. Which leaves me to wonder further, why did you not do your homework if you wanted to do it so strongly?"

Cosette shrugged again, but remembered quickly that the Transfigurations teacher never accepted that as an answer.

"I—I never received any homework to do…"

"Is that so?" McGonagall said surveying Cosette.

"Yes…"

"Very well, then I shall see to it that you receive your homework to complete before Easter Break. I do not wish to overwhelm you for I dare say your teachers are already giving you homework for the final exams, so I will give you your make-up assignments in moderation. See me when you finish a given make-up assignment and I shall give you more."

Cosette simply nodded, still staring at the floor.

"However, if I find out you are lying and you have been receiving your homework, and only didn't do any of it out of general laziness, than I shall have to enforce severe punishment, starting with your grades which I dare say will drop very far with all those zeros."

There was another slight pause.

"Another growing concern of not just me, but all your teachers seems to be your hygiene."

Cosette shifted uncomfortably, she did not want to endure this conversation further.

"Shouldn't my Head of House be the one helping me with this?" Cosette asked, though she did not like the idea of discussing this with Snape any better, still, she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and needed the excuse.

"Your Head of House is a very busy man who felt it would be better if a woman helped you with this. So the Headmaster appointed me to the task."

Cosette didn't say anything as she continued to look down at the floor.

"In any case, your hygiene is quite appalling and I must ask you to take better care of yourself. Bathe everyday and please, wash those dreadful clothes."

Cosette remained silent.

"Now then, I must ask you to leave as I have a class very soon. Try to get your grades up and remember what I told you about hygiene," Professor McGonagall said standing up and walking Cosette to the door. She ushered Cosette out and closed the door sharply behind her.

Cosette was not sure at all what to gleam from this conversation other than her workload was going to double. She quickly proceeded to Herbology class, the class she got the most filth on her uniform by far in. She did not know how she was going to improve her hygiene practices with only one set of clothes, was her only thought as Professor Sprout explained to the class that they would be pruning Devil Snare seedlings and giving them new soil.

The weeks leading up to the exams were very monotonous and uneventful for Harry. Hermione was more and more insistent that they spend all their free time in the library and she nagged Harry more since he "wasted" time with Quidditch practice. In truth, Harry hardly minded as he had enough on his mind, it helped greatly to be able to distract himself with anything, no matter how nagging Hermione became.

"I hardly call it wasting; Wood says we have a good chance of beating Ravenclaw. Their Seeker got injured during one of their practices."

Ron shifted slightly.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No, no, nothing."

Hermione surveyed the two of them with an odd expression.

"Whatever the case, you need to study and someone getting injured is nothing to celebrate."

Hermione left to retrieve several books from the shelves. It seemed that Ron was looking for an opportunity void of Hermione's presence.

"The Ravenclaw Seeker, she's a second year named Cho Chang," Ron explained.

"So?" Harry asked in a rather uninterested tone.

"Well let's just say that I might have had something to do with her injury…"

Harry looked at Ron, shocked.

"That's not the best part, you see I sort of borrowed your invisibility cloak Harry," Ron began to explain somewhat excitedly. "I snuck into the locker room to clip the end of her broom to unbalance her in flight, and they came in, the female members of the team. But they couldn't see me, so they just sort of went around with their business with me watching!"

"You stole my invisibility cloak?" was Harry's immediate reaction. Ron didn't seem to hear.

"That girl Cho Chang, I think I like her," Ron said with a dreamy expression on his face as he seemed to reminisce about a previous memory.

Harry was about to say something when Hermione returned heaving several books which she placed down in front of them, nagging them to get to work. Harry grudgingly pulled the book forward and pulled his Herbology homework out. He turned to the page he had grown so familiar with in his many nights of studying and began to read it for what must have been the umpteenth time.

"…_Devil Snare is a vicious vine with numerous magical qualities. It is classified as an animated plant and is capable of strangling its victims. The outer skin secretes a digestive acid that is highly potent and can reduce most large animals to a liquidy pulp it absorbs through its roots. Devil Snare is entirely carnivorous, it does not photosynthesize and in fact can only grow in places where there is no sunlight. Sunlight is Devil Snare's ultimate bane, over exposure leads to a remarkable loss of moisture that reduces the plant to dry sticks. As such, while it is a deadly plant, it is very easy to eradicate simply by casting Lumos…_"

Harry yawned, trying his best to concentrate as he read about the various qualities of Devil Snare.

Easter break was much more depressing than Christmas break. So much homework was piled on top of Harry that he barely had anytime to practice Quidditch. He was at least glad to hear that Madam Pomfrey was able to fix Cho Chang up in a heartbeat and Ron's sabotage was utterly unsuccessful. Harry was angry with Ron but he didn't seem to notice. On the contrary, he was walking with a new spring in his step. Harry couldn't understand why.

Easter break finally ended and the next month flew by, making exams come up very quickly, though Harry had a nagging feeling he had forgotten something. His scar still would not stop bothering him. He supposed that's why his friends seemed so mellow. They weren't waking up covered in cold sweat from terrifying nightmares and having a scar on their forehead that never stopped burning. They had the luxury of not being at the top of Voldemort's hit list, and as much as he might try to distract himself he couldn't get rid of the horrifying prospect that Snape could grab the Stone any minute and bring Voldemort back.

Cosette was buried in work. She was feverishly trying to get through it all. Ignoring Madam Pomfrey's instructions to eat regularly, she found herself skipping meals to work in the library, much to the displeasure of Madam Pince who did not appreciate her odor. She was also not sleeping well. Since her roommates initial inspiration from Cosette's absence, they had taken a habit of messing with Cosette's things every time she left the room. She eventually resolved to hide all her books in the boathouse where they couldn't find them. She spent most of her evenings in the boathouse working through her school work, and the rest of the night in her dorm studying feverishly. She would fall asleep for a mere few hours before having to wake up and go to class. The week leading up to the exams she returned from the boathouse with the book she planned to study. She entered her common room and ran rather abruptly into Madam Pomfrey.

"Skipping out on your checkup again, I see?" Madam Pomfrey said as she flared her nostrils when she caught a whiff of Cosette.

Cosette had completely neglected another one of Madam Pomfrey's instructions, to never be tardy for a checkup, which she wanted to see her for every weekend. It had not occurred to her that Madam Pomfrey would actually come after her, or that the healer would have access to her common room. If she thought about it, it would make sense that she could get into the house common rooms. She downcast her head so her hair hid her face and allowed herself to be escorted to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey gave her another full physical.

"You have not been taking good care of yourself at all, my dear. You are in the same weak state that I revitalized you from after you recovered from your fever. Not to mention it seems some of your self-care habits have worsened…" Madam Pomfrey said eyeing Cosette's filthy clothes. "I'm sorry to say, but until I am sure you are strong, healthy, and most importantly, able to take care of yourself and keep you that way, I cannot let you out of my sight," Madam Pomfrey said.

Cosette expected to be given the all too familiar hospital gown but Madam Pomfrey didn't give her one as she gathered up Cosette's dirty clothes in a hamper and left Cosette standing naked in the curtain enclosure. She decided to get into the bed and cover up; the last thing she wanted was for some random student to poke his head through the curtains. She jumped slightly as the curtains were yanked back and Madam Pomfrey walked in carrying a white robe. Madam Pomfrey asked Cosette to stand up and helped her into the robe.

"Come with me Ms. Potter, you are in serious need of a bath."

Cosette held her head down, thinking quietly to herself, 'I don't want a bath…' Madam Pomfrey escorted her into a large marble room adjoined to the Hospital Wing. Cosette had never been in this room before and she looked around mildly curious. Shower spouts aligned the right wall, and large marble bathtubs aligned the opposite wall. On the far end were a few toilet stalls and an enormous sink. Sitting next to the sink was a small stack of clean bedpans and various glass bottles of colorful liquids.

Pomfrey took the white robe from Cosette and motioned to one of the marble baths that was filled with steaming soapy water, indicating that Cosette was meant to get in. Cosette did as she was told; tired and half-starved the bath was in actuality, remarkably relaxing. Pomfrey walked over with one of the glass vials, a sponge, and a small cup of some kind. Cosette shirked away, unsure of what the healer intended to do. Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to take notice as she grabbed one of Cosette's arms, dousing the sponge in the soapy water, and began scrubbing under Cosette's arm.

"I can clean myself!" Cosette immediately protested to the treatment.

"You show little sign of such abilities," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "Besides, I wouldn't be doing my job unless I make sure that you are clean."

Cosette shifted uncomfortably as Pomfrey continued to work, scrubbing every inch of Cosette's body. Pomfrey then filled the cup with bath water to pour over Cosette's head. She did this about ten times or so until Cosette's hair was reasonably soaked. Pomfrey furrowed her brow as she attempted to comb her fingers through the wiry fibers.

"Do you ever brush your hair, girl?" Pomfrey asked in a rather annoyed tone.

Cosette didn't say anything.

Finally, Pomfrey applied some of the colored liquid to her hair, which began to foam. When all of Cosette's hair was very soapy Pomfrey rinsed it with the cup once more and then went over her body with the sponge a second time, for safe measure, apparently. Pomfrey then stood up, and the tub began to drain itself as she left to retrieve a large, very thick towel. Cosette didn't move, she simply sat there in the empty tub. When Pomfrey returned she gave Cosette a very stern look.

"Come out of there, child," Madam Pomfrey said, spreading the towel in front of her.

Cosette did as she was told and Pomfrey wrapped the towel around her and took out her wand and cast a spell on her hair. Cosette received the odd sensation that several blow-driers surrounded her head from the spell. Pomfrey then led Cosette out of the marble room back into the original curtain enclosure, where she was given a materialized hospital gown to change into and Pomfrey left her alone.

Cosette sighed as she changed into the hospital gown and crawled up into the hospital bed, exhausted from getting hardly any sleep the past few weeks, she fell into a blissful slumber.

Harry did notice his sister's absence from class this time, though this time around he didn't care nearly as much; with Quidditch, exams, and the Stone on his mind, he didn't have the room or the stress level to deal with much more. Besides, she made it clear she didn't want him around, and he didn't feel like visiting her only to have her start insulting him again. She would be fine, he convinced himself. She had to be.

The day of the exams Harry awoke extra early to go down to morning Quidditch practice. It was a very short practice in consideration, the morning practices always were, especially one being held on the day of exams. Harry returned to the common room to get his things together to go to the Charms classroom. They had been given their exams schedules, and Harry was scheduled to take the Charms exam that morning.

Harry found the exam to be incredibly easy. He performed all the basic charms, Lumos, Wingardium Leviosa, Alohomora, Colloportus, and Reparo, though he had some difficulty doing some of the more difficult charms seamlessly. Such as the color changing charm, he never got the color he was supposed to get and it was always a very washed out color. The written part Harry was confidant he aced because while he couldn't do the color changing charm perfectly, he could at least explain how one was supposed to do it.

The next exam was History of Magic and was, not surprisingly, entirely written and very dull. While Harry had difficulty remembering the name of Kyglae'efik the Vice's greatest disgrace, he was fairly confident that he did well on the test.

The final exam before lunch was Transfigurations. This was one that Harry faltered slightly in. While the practical part was something that the class had been doing for some time (learning to turn mice into snuffboxs), the written part was very difficult, as Harry wracked his memory for the notes he had sat in this class and taken as he tried to remember all the complicated graphs and mathematical formulas involved with Transfigurations. When Harry finally resigned himself and turned in his work, it was not with the same amount of confidence as the other two exams.

Harry proceeded to lunch with Hermione and Ron.

"Man, McGonagall's exam was hard, I'll be lucky to get a T, I imagine," Ron sighed as they walked down the hallway.

Hermione gave him a stern look.

"You better hope you don't! I told you, you should have studied more."

"I did study!" Ron replied hotly. "You wouldn't leave me alone about it, remember?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I just hope I did well, I got a little confused on the last problem but the rest were easy… I just hope it doesn't affect my grade too much."

"Listen to you, honestly," Ron laughed as they entered the Great Hall and sat down for lunch.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm fine," Harry said, gratefully shoveling food into his mouth.

"You sure?" Hermione said, giving Harry a wary look. "It's just you seem awful quiet as of late, and I heard Cosette is in the Hospital Wing again…"

"So? Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing, I'm sure Cosette has everything she needs."

Ron looked awkwardly from Harry to Hermione. Hermione turned to Ron, hoping he would say something. When Ron noticed Hermione's gaze he immediately turned to his food, shoveling it into his mouth.

"Are you sure you don't want to go visit her?" Hermione asked after a long pause.

"I'm fine," Harry said flatly. "Right now I just want to get through the exams. We have Herbology next, right?"

"Harry, there are something's more important than school or exams," Hermione said.

Ron choked heavily from these words and began to bang on his chest, quickly dislodging what he was choking on. He began to cough loudly.

"What did you just say?" Ron wheezed.

"Honestly Ron, do you think I'm so one-dimensional that I don't have proper priorities!"

"Well… Yeah," Ron said.

Hermione ignored Ron and turned back to Harry.

"I'm not going to talk about it. So you might as well drop it," Harry said as his scar gave another painful throb.

Hermione sighed and finally turned back to her own food. The group ate in silence, Ron shifting awkwardly in his seat.

Lunch ended and they headed to their Herbology exam. The practical exam was very easy, just showing that he could properly prepare and extract the various potions ingredients found in Devil Snare. The written exam was equally easy as they just needed to explain the basics of Herbology, different parts of different plants, where to look for good potions ingredients, how different plants were classified, and how to test a plants quality and how it would reflect the function of a potion.

Harry took out his schedule and examined it, groaning when he realized who he had next, Snape. Knowing Snape, he probably picked the hardest possible things for his exam. Harry was not at all surprised, the written exam was filled with complicated weight equations and the various qualities of potions and how they inhibited or improved the effect of various formulas.

'_Gillyweed is a potent oxidant and the effects of consuming raw gillyweed allows for one to survive underwater for a time dependent on the weight of the sample of gillyweed. Y equals the time one can survive underwater in hours, X equals the weight of gillyweed in ounces. Y=2X. How much gillyweed would be ideal for an anti-suffocation draught if you wanted the potion to last a whole day? Remember to account for the other active ingredients._'

Harry rubbed his head in frustration, thoroughly confused and lost in the written exam. He scrawled an answer that seemed to make the most sense to him and moved on to the next question.

The practical exam didn't go any better. Snape had assigned them one of the most difficult potions he had in his arsenal, an Alihotsy Draught, which apparently was supposed to induce a sense of hysteria to those who drank it or inhaled too much of the fumes. As such, Snape made sure everyone had cast a bubble-head charm before beginning so no one would inhale the fumes. Harry tried his best to brew the potion properly, but it was very difficult. Snape had provided them with a list of ingredients, and a series of mathematical formulas. No instructions on when to take the cauldron off the flame or anything. He said that provided we had been paying attention, we should know how to apply the math formula's and achieve any "extra" information we needed.

Harry was not satisfied with his potion at all, but he placed a sample in a vial and went to turn it into Snape. Snape gave an unpleasant sneer when he saw the color of Harry's potion; this did not help Harry's nerves in the least.

Harry left Snape's dungeon, swimming in fear, knowing for a fact that Snape would probably give him a zero. Harry half ran to his next exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was reasonably dull given the professor who was administrating them. It was mostly written and painfully easy with questions like:

'_What potent smell repels vampires?'_ Harry looked around the room at all the garlic hanging on the walls and wrote the answer to the utterly easy question.

The practical part could hardly be called that. Professor Quirrell simply asked the class to help him hang fresh garlic and other various herbs on the wall. Harry was not entirely sure what part of this they were going to be graded on, but he was fairly confidant to get a good one.

The last exam of the day was the Astronomy exam, which was entirely written. They were relieved to hear from Professor Sinistra that they would not need to complete a practical Astronomy exam until second year. This relieved Harry and what's more, this was another exam he felt good about getting a decent grade in.

Harry was relieved the exams were all over, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something very important. Cosette was his first thought; he had to admit she was something important, but it wasn't something he was forgetting, just neglecting. He walked out onto the sunny grounds with Ron and Hermione in tow. It was a very warm spring day, one of the few they'd had in a while. Other student's fresh from their exams were lounging and chatting on the grounds. The Weasley twins and their friend Lee Jordan were by the side of the lake tickling the giant squid. Harry, Hermione and Ron settled down underneath a small tree by the lake, enjoying the warm air.

"What do you think our grades will look like?" Ron asked casually.

Hermione looked slightly nervous as she bit her bottom lip.

"We'll find out when they give us our grades next week," Harry responded casually.

An owl carrying a letter flew overhead. Harry watched as it landed on the windowsill on one of the many high towers to be let in by an unidentifiable figure.

"Do you really think the Stone will be safe with Dumbledore in the castle?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I don't see how it couldn't be," Ron replied casually. "I mean you-know-who was terrified of Dumbledore from what I've been told. A wizard as powerful as that, It's hard to pull things under his nose."

Harry remembered how Dumbledore was able to immediately find Cosette and ask her to give him his cloak back during Christmas break, how he had found him by the mirror of Erised and known it was not his first visit, and most memorable, how Dumbledore had shown up in a heartbeat to get him and Ron out of trouble. He supposed Ron was right, nothing happened in Hogwarts that Dumbledore wasn't aware of.

Harry rubbed his forehead; his scar was bothering him again.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm fine, it's just that my scar keeps burning."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested immediately.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't think it's something she can help me with," Harry said simply, "I think it's a warning, it means danger is coming."

"You sure?"

"It started the night Voldemort tried to kill me in the forest, and hasn't stopped since."

Ron flinched at the name, Hermione, having been raised by muggles, gave no response but that didn't stop the awkward silence that fell over the group.

Harry turned and saw Hagrid's hut a few short yards away. Hagrid was sitting outside with both his pants and sleeves rolled up. He was busy shelling peas into a large bucket. It was then that something occurred to Harry. He stood up sharply.

"Of course, why didn't I see it before!" Harry said excitedly.

"What's up mate?" Ron said lazily.

"Hagrid! Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger in a pub turns up that just happens to have one, I mean how many people walk around with dragon eggs in their pockets if there illegal? If they are so expensive who's going to gamble one that they do happen to have in a game?" Harry said as he began to walk towards Hagrid's.

Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to catch onto Harry's exact meaning as they made quickly to follow.

"Hullo Harry, Ron, Hermione. Finished with exams now are yeh, can I offer you a cuppa?"

"Yes please," Ron said smiling.

Harry quickly interjected.

"We don't have time. Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg, what did he look like?"

Hagrid seemed to concentrate for a moment as he recalled his night at the pub.

"I don' know rightfully, he kept his hood up."

"What did you talk about?"

"I can't rightfully remember that either, he kept buyin' me drinks, yeh see."

"Can you try and remember? How did the subject of dragon eggs come about?"

"Well, I think I mentioned that I would love to have a dragon, an' then he said that he actually happened to have a dragon egg an' he would be willin' to play a game of cards for it. Then he bought me another drink…"

"After that?"

"After that, I told him I would love to play cards for it, but he seemed a little skeptical. Wanted to make sure the dragon went to a good home I suppose, he asked me what other sorts of creatures I took care of in my time."

"And?"

"And naturally I told him about Fluffy. I told him that after Fluffy, a dragon will be no problem."

"Did he seem at all interested in Fluffy?"

"Well of course! I mean Cerberus dogs are a rare breed! But I told him the trick with any beast is to know how to calm it! Take Fluffy for example, you start playing a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep," Hagrid stopped cold. "Err…"

Harry had already turned and ran back up towards the castle, Ron and Hermione trying desperately to keep up, Hagrid calling after them, but they were all ignoring him.

"Harry wait, where exactly are we going?" Hermione called as they entered the castle.

"We need to tell Dumbledore everything! Where's his office?" Harry asked as he turned to face his two friends.

They were all silent; it seemed that no one actually knew where Dumbledore's office was. Harry was trying to figure out what to do when he spotted McGonagall walking briskly up the hall, her arms laden with books.

"Why are you three not outside? Go, exams are over, enjoy the weather," McGonagall said as she made to continue walking down the hallway, not particularly caring if they listened to her instructions.

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said quickly before McGonagall had walked out of an earshot.

McGonagall stopped in her tracks and turned to look sternly at the trio.

"Why do you need to see Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked as if this was something to be suspicious of.

"Err… It's a secret," Harry said quickly.

"Is that so?" McGonagall said surveying them calmly. "Well regardless, your secret will have to wait, Professor Dumbledore is not here at the moment. He received an urgent letter from the Minister of Magic and left promptly afterwards."

"He's gone? But this is important!" Harry insisted.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard Mr. Potter, and he has many callings that keep him very busy with many important things. I do not think that the childish secret of a school boy is more important than matters regarding the Ministry."

"But this isn't something childish," Harry said beginning to get worried. Dumbledore was gone, which meant Snape must be planning to steal the stone at that very moment.

"Clearly," McGonagall said with undisguised sarcasm. "I suggest you head on outside and enjoy the weather. I have things to attend to so I will be leaving now Mr. Potter."

With that, McGonagall turned around and walked briskly up the hallway. Harry wasn't sure where to go from there but he knew that he couldn't stand around and do nothing. He began to walk towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione said apparently just finding her voice. "What's going on exactly?"

Harry turned to the two other Gryffindors; he had figured it was rather obvious.

"That was no stranger that Hagrid met in the pub that night, it had to be Snape, which means he knows how to get passed Fluffy and has known for a while now."

"Blimey," Ron said his eyes lighting up. "Then why hasn't he stolen the stone already?"

"He still needed to know how to get past Quirrell's enchantments, so that delayed him, and since then he has been waiting for an opportune moment when Dumbledore wasn't in the castle."

"But Dumbledore just left!"

Harry nodded.

"I reckon that Dumbledore received a fake letter from Snape so that he could be drawn out of the castle. Whether he did or didn't though, Dumbledore is gone, so Snape will likely be trying to steal the Stone this evening!"

"Good afternoon."

Harry jumped and turned around at the sound of the familiar, cool voice. He looked up to see Snape, looming over them all with a raised brow.

"Now what would three young students such as yourselves be doing inside, on a day like this?"

The way Snape said it; you would think they were breaking a rule. Harry gulped, how much did Snape hear? Did he know that they were on to him?

"We were just…" Harry tried to think of an adequate explanation.

"Having a little chat?" Snape interrupted.

"Best be careful, people might think that your," Snape scanned the group over, pausing slightly. "Up to something."

Snape glared at each one in turn before turning and walking up the hallway in his usual bat-like fashion.

"What are we going to do?"

Harry did not answer Ron's query.

"No one will believe us that Snape is trying to steal the stone. I'll have to try and stop him; he's going after the Stone, so am I."

"Don't be daft Harry, that's insane," Hermione said.

"I need to!"

"The Stone isn't worth your life!"

"Yes it is! If I don't stop Snape no one else will and if Snape succeeds Voldemort will come back!"

"They won't let you come back to school; you'll be expelled for sure!"

"Haven't you heard what it was like when Voldemort was powerful the first time? He killed my parents and made everyone suffer horribly! If I don't do something there will be no Hogwarts to come back too!"

The group was silent for several moments, finally Ron spoke.

"Alright, what's the plan?"

Harry looked at his friend for several moments.

"I'll go down to the third floor corridor with my invisibility cloak and see if I can follow Snape into the trap door and get the Stone before he does."

"Do you think that the invisibility cloak will cover all of us?" Hermione asked somewhat skeptically.

"I think… Hang on, you two aren't coming."

"Oh come off it, Harry!" Ron said hotly.

"Of course we're coming; we aren't going to let you take on Snape by yourself."

Harry had never been more grateful to have his two friends than in that particular moment. The three of them spent the rest of the day trying to plan out how they were going to get passed Fluffy and studying up in the library for any other enchantments they felt they were liable to come across. Obviously they would need music to get past Fluffy, so Harry made sure to keep his flute on his person. Harry, Ron and Hermione finally went up to the common room, sitting in silence as curfew pasted and they waited for the room to empty as students filed into their dormitories.

Ron gave a simple grim nod to Harry who went up to his dorm to retrieve his invisibility cloak. He then came down and addressed Hermione and Ron.

"Ready?"

They both nodded, but before Harry could cast the cloak over them the heard a small voice from the stairs to the dormitories.

"You're sneaking out again, aren't you?"

It was Neville, standing there in his pajamas and Trevor in his hands.

"It's none of your business," Ron said simply.

Neville walked around the group and stood in front of the portrait hole.

"I won't let you; you'll get Gryffindor into trouble again!"

"Neville, don't be an idiot."

"You're the one that said I should stand up for myself! I-I-I'll fight you!" Neville said dropping Trevor and putting a rather feeble guard up.

"Yes, but you're not supposed to be standing up to us!" Ron said. "What we have to do is very important, you'll understand later. Come on," Ron said to Harry and Hermione as he made to push passed Neville.

Neville was not having it, as he panicked and punched Ron squarely in the eye. Ron fell over, flat on his back.

"I'll fight you, too! Don't think I won't, you got Gryffindor into enough trouble already!" Neville said his face pale and fists shaking slightly.

Harry helped a rather dazed Ron to his feet.

"Hermione, do something!" Harry said.

Hermione stepped forward and pulled out her wand.

"Leave it for the girl to do..." Hermione grumbled as she raised her wand, pointing it at Neville's chest, Neville seemed to shirk in fear. "Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione said loudly.

Neville's features froze and his hands snapped to his sides and his feet were pressed together. His entire body straightened and became rigid, as stiff as a board. He tilted precariously from side to side before falling flat on his back.

"Sorry Neville," Hermione said.

"Let's go," Harry said simply as he walked around Neville. The other two followed suit.

Harry draped the cloak over them and they exited the portrait hole and made their way to the third floor. They didn't run into anyone except Mrs. Norris, who they knew couldn't see them but it still unnerved them to have her lamp like eyes following them.

"Let's kick her, just this once!" Ron whispered into Harry's ear. Harry simply shook his head and they proceeded down the third floor.

What greeted them came as a bit of a surprise. The wall that the right door was supposed to be on was completely missing. The entirety of the wall seemed to have shifted, as if it was a room divider in a Japanese home. It was pushed into the wall in such a way that the room it led to was completely visible. Only the edges of the wall could be seen, sticking out of the adjoined wall like a collapsible surface. Well, at least this explained to Harry how they got such a massive dog in the room to begin with.

Taking a deep breath, Harry approached cautiously. Fluffy was nowhere to be found. The added space from the doorway offered plenty of passage for a beast of Fluffy's enormous size. They stepped into the room and pulled the invisibility cloak off of them. The only thing in the room was an old harp. Snape must have used it to charm Fluffy to sleep, and left the passage open when he went down the trapdoor. Fluffy must be wandering the castle. The thought made Harry somewhat glad that he was going down the trapdoor.

Harry went over to the trapdoor and opened it. He peered down into the impenetrable gloom, there was no ladder of any kind and he couldn't see the bottom. Harry threw the harp into the open pit to test it. It didn't hit anything hard, that was encouraging, and the sound made it seem like about a story or two.

"I'll go first I guess," Harry said as he sat down on the edge of the trap door, his legs hanging over the edge.

"What if something happens?"

"Get McGonagall, she'll have to do something if I'm trapped down there," Harry said simply. Ron nodded but Hermione looked somewhat skeptical.

Harry shut his eyes, bracing for what he was about to do. He pushed himself off the edge of the trap door and fell through the darkness. The fall was short but everything seemed to slow down as it happened. It was almost exhilarating to fall freely though the darkness. It was with a very soft thud that the fall stopped, Harry landing on his back.

"Are you okay Harry?" He heard Hermione call.

"Yeah," Harry called. He began to blindly feel what was around him. What he was surrounded by what felt like a very thick bed of slimy plants. At least it was a soft landing. Harry moved over to the side to allow Ron and Hermione to come down. In the process he found more plants.

"It's okay. Come on down, it's a soft landing."


	20. The Trials Of The Stone

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 20<p>

The Trials of the Stone

Ron and Hermione were quick to descend down through the trap door, Ron quicker than Hermione, who took her time bracing for the fall.

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron called.

"Just give me a moment…" Hermione murmured.

Ron sighed in frustration.

"It's a very soft landing; there are lots of plant things down here!" Ron encouraged.

There was a pause and finally a small shriek from above could be heard as Hermione fell downwards, landing with a soft thud next to Harry. Hermione got up and brushed herself off.

"Told you," Ron chortled, smirking in the gloom at Hermione who seemed to return the gesture by sticking out her tongue. It was hard to tell in the gloom.

"Let's try and find the exit," Harry said, though he couldn't even tell how big the room was it was so dark.

He felt something brush past his side and realized that Ron had fallen over next to him.

"I'm alright," Ron assured the other two. "I just tripped over one of these plant-like things."

Ron tried to move, but found that his leg wasn't cooperating with the rest of his body. He began to frantically squirm and fight, catching the attention of his two friends.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I—I can't move! This stupid plant –it's got my leg!"

"What?" Harry asked, but suddenly felt something cold and wet slither near him. Before he could move, what felt like a slimy worm curled and wrapped itself tightly around him. He gave a startled yelp.

"It's got me, too!" Harry began to struggle fruitlessly, but every time he moved, the vines wrapped tighter around him.

"Wait; let me see what's going on, _Lumos!_" Hermione called out, and a flash of light sprung out for from her wand, lighting up the area.

There was a sudden tensing from the vines around them, and then they suddenly flinched and pulled back. Suddenly, all three of them fell through the vines as they quickly fled from the light in terror. All of them fell gracelessly into a heap under the vines. The harp Snape charmed fell with a crass chime as a few strings snapped. Hermione raised her lit wand to the ceiling from where they had fallen and watched as the greenish plant, squirmed to get away at the light producing from her wand.

"What _was _that?" Ron gasped out.

"Devil's Snare," Hermione said. "They hate light, you see. We got lucky, if I hadn't pulled out my wand, they would have strangled us to death."

"Well, that's comforting!" Ron huffed, staring at the vines. "Could you imagine how badly that could've ended if we got caught in it? Stupid plants…"

Harry looked gratefully at Hermione.

"Thanks," he gasped and Hermione smiled at him, she had affectively saved their life. It could have ended badly right then if it hadn't been for her. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

Without another word, the threesome turned and headed into the next room, just as they reached it, Ron paused and stared back behind him.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Ron's brows furrowed.

"How… exactly are we gonna get back up there?"

Both Hermione and Harry turned to stare at the passage way on the ceiling. Harry shook his head.

"I don't' know, but we'll figure it out when we get back."

"_If_ we get back, is what you mean," Ron gulped and followed them into the room.

The first thing both of them noticed was that the room required no light from Hermione's wand. It was brightly lit with torches placed precariously on the walls. The second thing they noted was the loud humming noises that sounded like hundreds of beating wings. Looking up into the air, he spotted the thousand buzzing flies, or what looked like flies. Upon closer look, he realized that what were flying weren't in fact insects, but dozen of keys held suspended by large wings. The door opposite them however, was wide open.

"Let's go…I don't really want to know what all those keys are for…" Ron mumbled, walking through the door first.

Harry and Hermione silently agreed and followed him through. It seemed as though Snape had solved the room's puzzle, and he was both happy and distressed by it. He was happy because it meant he didn't have to solve it himself, distressing because it meant that Snape was that much closer to getting the Stone.

Ron was standing off to the side near a large marble platform that resembled a graveyard, with large statue like tomb stones, many of which were crushed and broken. Harry approached Ron, curious to see what the puzzle of this room must be, hoping it wasn't anything like the keys.

"What is it?" Harry asked Ron.

"It's a chess board," Ron said simply. He walked out onto the board.

"The door is on the other side," Hermione announced.

Standing in the center of the board was a King's marbled body bent forward, kneeling and offering up its sword in surrender. The three of them walked passed it and into the door. Yet another puzzle solved for them.

When they entered the next room, they were assaulted by a putrid stench. Both Hermione and Harry gagged and covered their nose against the offensive odor. Ron made a revolted sounding noise. It smelled terribly familiar, and caused an unpleasant lurch inside Harry's stomach. Looking towards the source, Harry cringed at the sight of a mountain troll, one that looked at least twice the size of the one Harry met. It was laying belly up, its insides half falling out of its blood covered body, a sword jutting out from its stomach.

"That's disgusting!" Hermione gasped. Harry couldn't help agree.

"Let's just be glad we didn't have to face another one."

The three of them hurried along into the next room. Harry was worried over what they would have to face next but there wasn't anything particularly imposing in the next room, just a table with seven colored bottles on it.

"This must be Snape's task," Harry said, flames erupting behind them, blocking the way they came.

They weren't normal flames either, these flames were purple, and Harry noted that black flames had erupted, blocking the exit on the other side of the room.

"What do we do?" Ron asked helplessly.

"Over here," Hermione said beckoning Harry to the table.

There was a silver plaque on the table; intricate engravings lay on it. Hermione began to read out loud.

"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."

Hermione smiled and looked over at Harry.

"This is brilliant, it's not magic, it's just logic. Most wizards would be lost without logic," Hermione said.

Harry was lost.

"So what?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"It's a riddle. One of the potions will allow us to walk through the black flames, and one will allow us to walk back."

"Okay, so which one is which?"

"That's the riddle, we need figure out. Just give me a minute."

Harry nodded and waited patiently for Hermione to figure out which bottle was which. Hermione read the clues several times, walking up and down the line of bottles before finally coming to a conclusion.

"I got it, the smallest bottle will allow the drinker to move forward, towards the Stone," Hermione said.

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, eyeing the bottle with worry.

"There's barely anything in there, only enough for one of us," Harry observed.

Hermione nodded.

"One of us will have to go forward and the rest will have to go back."

"So, which bottle takes you back?"

Hermione pointed a large rounded bottle.

"You both take that one," Harry said.

Ron looked as though she was about to protest.

"No listen, there is only enough for one of us, so someone will have to go back anyway. You go back and get out and tell a teacher what's happened. Find Hedwig in the owlery and alert Dumbledore. We'll need his help, I'll be able to hold Snape off for a bit but I doubt I am really much of a match for him."

"But Harry, what if Voldemort's there!" Hermione asked, face worried with concern.

"Well, I was lucky once wasn't I?" Harry said with a small smile as he pointed to his scar. "I might get lucky again. I guess I might have to."

Hermione's lips trembled slightly and without much warning, Hermione threw her arms around Harry, gripping him tightly.

"Hermione!" Harry said somewhat surprised.

"You're a great wizard Harry, you know that, right?"

"I'm not as good as you are," Harry said, feeling embarrassed.

"Me?" Hermione laughed. "Books, cleverness, there are more important things. Do be careful…"

"Harry…" Ron started. "You better not die, okay? You're a great friend."

"I'll be fine," Harry smiled as he picked up the smallest bottle. "You drink first."

Hermione nodded and went to reach the vial, but Ron pushed her hand aside. He gave her a worried glance before he picked up the bottle himself. He hesitated for a while, eyeing it as if it were poison. Slowly he took a deep breath and took a swig.

"Not poison?" Harry said hopefully.

Ron shook her head, sighing in relief. He then passed the potion to Hermione, who quickly drank it.

"It's like ice," Hermione shivered.

"Go then, before it wears off."

Hermione and Ron did just that, turning sharply around they walked quickly through the purple flames and up the short passage way.

Harry uncorked the bottle, beginning to feel more and more alone. He drank the remaining contents of the bottle, Hermione was right, it did feel like ice. The slimy contents of the bottle seemed to freeze his insides and make his tongue feel rather cold. Feeling determined he walked forward briskly, walking into the next room.

The room inside was bereft of torches. Instead, the room was bathed in a warming light of hundreds of flickering candles, the intensity magnified by the fact that three of the walls were made completely out of mirrors. One of the mirrors was cracked, as if in a struggle. Each mirrored panel was draped behind a pulled-back russet curtain, the twisted golden pull strings pulled tight to reveal them. The candles varied in shapes and colors, mounting the two large tables and fixed onto the floor in imperceptible patterns, reflecting off the mirrors and producing an almost blinding light. They wreathed the room in a glow, shining off the glittering surfaces and into his eyes. Near the center fixed a crystal ball of a would-be fortune teller, upon a podium of spun pearls and chicken's feet. The door opposite him was a marvelous structure of solid marble and gold inlay. There was no doorknob present, but instead, festooned amongst the decorated effigy was a large, gold encrusted eye. The protruding design was polished, and resembled the all-seeing-eye and acted as the device to open the passageway. Above this was a passage written, as enchanted snakes slithered and twined between the letters.

'_The Eyes I cannot see_

_But there lies the key to opening me_

_But, to all, my fellows beware_

_For there lies great peril to who meet my stare.'_

A grotesque was there put, the head of a gorgon medusa shrieking mid-scream, gnarled, fanged mouth gaping, eyes reflecting burning fires in the candlelight.

The room was deathly buzzing, and within its echoing stillness, Harry shivered as what sounded like thousands and thousands of voices were whispering all at once. The whispers were too hushed and frenzied and ran overtop one another to discern what they were saying; all he knew was that they seemed to be coming from the center of the room, in the large wicker basket.

Harry took cautious steps towards it, noting with a wave of relief that the passage way was in fact open on the other side. As he approached the hissing basket, the whispers grew louder, and seemed to echo in the room. He could barely make out the sound of one hundred cries of "Let me out!" and "Escape!" as he grew closer. A chill ran down his back as he noticed the basket twitch, and the violent whispers grew louder still.

Hesitantly, Harry licked his lips, wondering what was producing the horrid whispers. They filled the room with their hissing misery. They sounded violent and angry. They were so harsh and grating to him, that he had to cover his ears with his hands to block out the loud echoing.

"Is anyone there?"

Almost instantly, the thousand voices ceased. It was as if the sound of his voice silenced them all. The room was suddenly eerily quiet from the lack of angry voices. Hesitantly, Harry reached a hand over the basket, and just as his hand was about to rest upon the magic seal, the basket jerked violently, as if whatever inside noticed his presence. Harry pulled back his hand violently, broken from whatever spell had come over him. He shook his head free from distraction and forced his feet into a jog out of the room, through the all seeing eye, and Harry noticed as he ran through, a wet, greenish serpent-like eyeball was fixed within the pupil of the statue, as if it were freshly plucked from some unlucky beast and put in there, and was in fact the key the riddle spoke of to open the door. Harry's insides seized up, knowing that the end of his journey was approaching.

Cosette was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing once more; she had missed her exams, though McGonagall told her that her teachers would postpone them for her. At the very least, she actually got work done in the Hospital Wing this time. Professor McGonagall had seen to it personally that she receive her work. She was almost caught up; she only had some studying to do and a little extra homework.

She figured she would go straight to her dormitory as instructed by Madam Pomfrey to assess the damage done to her belongings in her absence. At least her uniform that she now wore was clean, for now. She descended into the dungeons around curfew and was headed to the common room when she heard a low growling noise from around the corner. She froze and listened anxiously. From around the corner came a huge beast that towered over her, however, the aspect that grasped her was the presence of its three gaping, snarling heads. The dog must have been bigger than Hagrid, and all three of its heads stared at her with gleaming, hungry expressions.

Cosette stared at it, frozen in terror. What was this creature doing in the dungeons? One of the dog's three heads gave a low growl, all of them bared their yellowed teeth, slobbery drool dribbled from one mouth and fell at her feet. The dog stepped towards Cosette and she took a fearful step back. It was then that Cosette seemed to recall, rather sluggishly, that her legs were made of solid material. She timidly backed up, and the beast steadily advanced. Her blood felt like ice and she began to shake in horror. Her mouth hung open and her schoolwork clattered loudly to the stones beneath her feet. This seemed to irritate the snarling beast, for it reared back its head and barked—loudly. Cosette couldn't even find it inside her to scream, instead, she ran as fast as she could up the tunneling corridor of the dungeon. The dog, trying to fit its body into the restricting low ceilings of the dungeons, made to chase after her.

Desperately, and with tears threatening to fall, she wondered where she could possibly go that was safe when she realized she was in the dungeon corridor that led to the potions classroom. She would head there, Professor Snape would save her; it was her only chance. She spotted the door, the dog still bounding behind her as she pushed through it at a speed she was not aware she was capable of. She slammed the door behind her, pinning herself against it, a look of pure terror on her face. Snape was sitting at his desk calmly working. He peered up briefly, looking somewhat annoyed at the sudden intrusion. When he saw who it was, his face slackened into its usual cold expression. He then very hastily returned to his work, resuming his usual habit of ignoring her. It was not to last though as the dog gave and enormous bang on the door, rattling it almost off the hinges and causing the door and the girl leaning on the opposite side to jump. This seemed to finally favor Cosette with some of Snape's attention as he stood up at the resounding noise.

Snape looked from the door to Cosette and back again. He then addressed Cosette, but refused to look at her in any other way.

"What _exactly_ is going on?"

"T-t-there's a g-giant three headed m-monster in the dungeons! It's chasing m-me!"

This was apparently all Snape needed to hear as he took out his wand and approached Cosette.

"Stand away from the door and get behind me!" Snape said, and Cosette was not about to argue as she made to do as she was told, cowering helplessly behind the figure of Snape as she clung to the hem of his robes.

Snape stood there, pointing his wand at the door waiting, completely ignoring the terrified little girl behind him. When no second bangs came on the door, Snape very slowly approached and opened it, looking up and down the corridor with his wand. The dog was not there anymore. Cosette began to feel a sudden wave of dread. Now Professor Snape would think she was making up stories and she would be in trouble. Snape then addressed Cosette, without turning around.

"I want you to go into my office and wait. You will be safe in there. I have work I must attend to," Snape said simply. Cosette again did not argue and quickly made her way into Snape's office, the door locking itself automatically. She quickly hid herself beneath Snape's desk, curling up in fear.


	21. The Mirror of Erised

**Disclaimer: We (me and my partners) do not hold or claim to hold any rights to the Harry Potter series. All content and characters within are owned under JK Rowling and Time Warner, all rights reserved.**

**Exceptions include original characters such as Melvin Aguillard, and other characters not affiliated with the original works of the Harry Potter series. We do not claim any further ownership, nor do we intend to profit from our limited ownership.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 21<p>

The Mirror of Erised

Harry began to feel more and more alone, passed the point of no return. He entered a large chamber the size of a cathedral. Harry realized the room was designed like a stadium. The room sank lower and lower on steps, as if for people to sit on. The center of the room was also the lowest point of the chamber, like a fighting ring. Harry saw that the Mirror of Erised was in the middle of this ring. He then saw that a figure was standing in front of the mirror and he was shocked when he realized that it was not the easily recognizable form of Snape. Voldemort was his first thought, but then he recognized the purple turban.

"Quirrell?" Harry said, his voice echoing loudly through the room.

It was undeniable; the figure standing in front of the mirror was Quirrell. He turned around and faced Harry, an unnaturally cold expression on his usually nervous face.

"You? But Snape he was…"

"Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he?" Quirrell said in a cool and collected voice quite unlike his own. He then turned back, facing the mirror.

"But Snape tried to kill me, at the Quidditch match."

"He was rather annoying then. I would probably have succeeded in killing you had he not been muttering his counter curses."

"Snape was trying to save me…" Harry said in an unbelieving voice.

"You catch on quick," Quirrell said rather sarcastically, gazing into the mirror.

"Then you let the troll in!"

"Yes, Snape had always suspected me, unfortunately. So my diversion didn't work since he headed me off on the third floor."

Harry was silent, he could hardly believe it. Snape wasn't trying to steal the stone, it was Quirrell, stuttering and whimpering Professor Quirrell.

"Snape was rather annoying in my pursuit of the Stone," Quirrell said simply. "Always trying to catch me alone, but unfortunately for him I'm never alone, and soon I shall figure this mirror out, get the Stone, and be a long ways away from here."

"You can't take the Stone!"

Quirrell didn't say anything. Harry began to try and think of ways he could stop Quirrell. He pulled out his wand, remembering the full body bind that Hermione used on Neville. He lifted his wand and pointed it at Quirrell's back, only to feel it pulled very suddenly from his hand. It flew towards Quirrell who caught it seamlessly. Harry stood there, dumbfounded, unsure of what to do now. Quirrell continued to gaze into the mirror.

"It would seem that staring into the mirror is quite unproductive. Why not allow someone else to gaze into it?" came a very sudden voice. It echoed loudly throughout the room. Harry looked around; there was a third person in the room?

Quirrell spun from his position and glared at Harry, who took an unconscious step backwards.

"Potter!"

Harry's legs felt horribly weak as he stumbled towards the bellowing mad man against his will. He was at a disadvantage: no wand and no ways to protect himself. As he stood in front of the large mirror, he felt Quirrell's icy grip clench painfully onto his shoulders to prevent any form of escape.

"Now," he said from next to him. "What is it that you see?"

Harry looked from the teacher to the mirror, unsure of how this was supposed to mean anything. He knew what the mirror would show him, and he didn't quite understand how that could help Quirrell.

However, the image in the mirror was vastly different from the ones he saw previously. Instead of his parents smiling faces, he saw himself standing in his exact spot, but clutched in his hands was a deep crimson stone. Harry's eyes widened as his mirrored image placed the stone in his pocket, and then winked at him.

Hesitantly, Harry tilted his fingers to feel the sudden bulge in his pocket. He tapped it, feeling a hard object present. Harry gasped.

"What? What is it? What do you see?" Quirrell's anxious voice rung overhead, his grip tightened.

"I—I am shaking hands with Dumbledore… I see myself holding the House Cup…" Harry tried to come up with a reasonable lie, but found himself stumbling over his words.

"The boy lies. He evidently believes his wit far surpasses your own."

There was that voice again. It seemed to echo in the room, just like both his and Quirrell's and therefore made it impossible to locate where they were.

"Who..? Where..?" Was all Harry could say.

Quirrell gave a short smirk.

"You'd do well to tell the truth. My master is not kind to those who lie to him."

"Your master? You mean Voldemort? He's here?" Harry began to panic slightly and look around worried.

"Yes, my master is with me wherever I go. As I told you Potter, Snape could never catch me alone because I was simply never alone."

"I still don't understand how it's you and not Snape. I always thought Snape hated me."

"It would seem that Snape hates everyone."

"Enough of this idle chit-chat," came the echoing voice once more. Harry began to back away from Quirrell, keeping the exit in reach. "While I am sure your gregarious tendencies could in fact hold the interest of the common unsophisticated rube, Quirinus, I feel that Mr. Harry Potter should be properly introduced first."

"Master? But you haven't the strength!" Quirrell sputtered.

"I shall decide what I have the strength for, Quirinus…"

The voice drifted off as Quirrell's trembling hands fumbled with the purple turban wrapped around his head. It felt like hours before he managed to undo the whole piece, and when it was finally removed, the shaking man threw the cloth into the corner. His eyes suddenly looked very hollow, much like a dead man. Hesitantly, he turned his head away so that his back was facing Harry.

Harry felt his throat go dry. Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been was another face, skin pulled taunt over fleshy features in an unnatural map of facial expressions. Two filmy eyes blinked warily at him from within Quirrell's skull. Harry took several steps backwards.

"Ah, so you see, Mr. Potter? A rather unconventional way to exist. I find it a rather distasteful means of survival, relying on the wasteful sack of flesh before you…but how rude of me… Let me introduce myself: I am Lord Voldemort."

Harry couldn't find his words to speak; he merely gaped at the face in shocked horror.

"My, my Mr. Potter, where are your manners? Did your mummy and daddy not reach you how to properly introduce yourself? Tut, tut, for shame. I think they would be gravely ashamed of your disgraceful etiquette."

"You killed my parents!" Harry said, finding his voice.

"A minor inconvenience, I would not say that your rudeness is excused by such."

"I'm not talking about being polite or anything, you are responsible for my parents' deaths!" Harry said in an accusing tone, trying to keep his composure strong enough to not break down.

"A well established veritable," Voldemort said simply.

Harry gazed back into the white, filmy eyes of Voldemort. He had sometimes wondered what sort of person Voldemort must have been and now he knew; he was the type of person that discussed death like one would the weather.

"Oh, and as you can so clearly tell," Voldemort began in a drawling voice. "My current state of health has been less than stellar as of lately, and the only means of habituating is to harvest what I can off the unicorn. Conveniently enough, there is a simple cure to my detestable situation, and it lies within your pocket."

Harry visibly flinched. He knew! Without wasting any time, Harry turned and ran for the exit. He half wondered why Voldemort wasn't chasing after him until he made it to the door, and flames suddenly sprung from the walls, engulfing the exit in a heated barrier of white hot flames. Harry stepped back slightly in surprise. He turned back to Voldemort, not trusting to have his back turned. He put a protective hand over the stone in his pocket.

"I won't give it to you! Never!"

"How is your dear poor sister Cosette doing, Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked simply, interrupting the moment. Harry was caught off guard, wondering what his sister had to do with anything.

"My sister has nothing to do with this!" Harry yelled, suddenly feeling angry. What did he know about Cosette?

"Ah yes, pitiful looking girl isn't she? So small and weak. Has she been fitting in well? I wonder what she'd do in your present situation. Would she stand just as brave, or would she cower in fear, would she cry like the sniveling child she is? I think so. She wouldn't resist quite as strongly in handing the Stone to me, after all, its purpose is far above her understanding. How do you think she would fair, Harry? How long would she resist? Hm? How would daddy's little girl hold up? Would she crumble within the first few seconds of my torture, or would she martyr herself and lay out her life in ensure the Stone's protection? I think the choice is quite clear."

Instantly and without his control, Harry felt unwanted images being forced into his brain. His scar burned hotly and his hand flew to grasp it as images appeared in his head. Images of his sister kneeling on the floor, crying, screaming in agony as Voldemort stood above her, blood leaking from her body until a final image nestled itself in his mind; Cosette's lifeless eyes staring vacantly as her bloodied hand dropped the stone by Voldemort's feet.

"No!" Harry yelled. His eyes clenched shut tightly against the images as they kept cycling over and over.

"Kindly give me the Stone, Harry. It is in your family's best interest to do so, after all, there are so few of you left."

Harry gasped for breath and glared at Voldemort's mutilated face, trying to block out the thoughts running rampant in his head.

"You…you won't touch her… and you…won't get…the Stone…" Harry huffed, his scar burned like never before, as if it had suddenly caught fire on his forehead.

He saw the look on Voldemort's face drop slightly.

"Such a pity then, I didn't want to dispose of you quite yet, Harry. We have so much in common, after all, and the world is far more interesting with you in it."

Harry didn't have time to wonder about these words as Quirrell unexpectedly sprung to life. Harry had momentarily forgotten the presence of the other man for one ridiculous moment, and it wasn't until the man came flying at him that Harry remembered to move. He tried desperately to get out of the way, but found himself pinned to the ground under Quirrell's much larger form. The man's hand went straight at his throat.

Harry gasped weakly, trying to suck in air as Quirrell choked the life out of him. His hands lashed out around him, trying with all his might to reach for something that could help him. His scar was burning blindly and almost rendered him unconscious, yet, just as suddenly as Quirrell's hands touched him, they pulled back, and he howled.

"Master! Master, I can't touch him!" he screamed out in pain. Quirrell was looking at his fingers and Harry followed his vision, and saw in a sudden wave of disgust, the charred and blackened crust that was once Quirrell's hands. The stench alone was almost overpowering.

"My hands! My hands!" the man screamed, eyes widened in horror.

"Fool, kill the boy!" Voldemort said, but Quirrell wasn't listening, he just kept staring at the cracked embers that were once his hands, howling madly. Harry didn't understand what was going on, only that his hands suddenly became the ultimate weapon against Voldemort. With a sudden thought, Harry looked down at his hands and then glared at the blubbering man over him, yipping and stuttering in an almost reminiscent and highly ironic fashion. Raising his hands, Harry went to push Quirrell off of him, managing to slap him hard across the face. Quirrell screamed in pain, and curled his blackened hands over his face, trying to stop the sudden smoke that rose. He curled himself into a pitiful ball whimpering loudly.

Harry wanted to get up, to get himself out of there, but he found his body reacting sluggishly. He felt his vision cloud over and blacken, and his eyelids felt suddenly heavy. A wave of dizziness came over him and he suddenly felt like he was falling into a blackness, hearing only Voldemort's angry bellows and Quirrell's pathetic shrieks and whimpers…

Cosette spent an hour or so cowering under the desk until finally the effects of being chased by the monster, whom she deduced was the beast affectionately called "Fluffy," seemed to wear off. She slowly came out from under the desk and began to pace anxiously. After a while, she began to look around the room, curiously intrigued by the many jars with various slimy creatures pickling within. She approached one jar filled with a jelly like, yellow substance. An unrecognizable blob floated inside. Cosette thought it looked like a space cloud called a nebula or something that she learned in Astronomy class. She tapped the glass wondering if it would respond when quite suddenly it parted, revealing itself to be a large lidded eyeball. Cosette shirked back abruptly in surprise as the bulbous pupil surveyed her. Staring at it unnerved for a moment, she turned away quickly, trying her best to ignore it as her attention shifted to one of the tall bookshelves in the office.

She looked at the various titles on one bookshelf noting that all of them were well organized alphabetically. She loved books, and ached desperately to take one off the shelves, but she serious questioned how smart it was to touch any of Professor Snape's possessions.

She looked around, staring at the door and noting the silence from the other side. Maybe she could take one off the shelf and get some light reading done before the Potions Master came back. She had already been here for hours.

Looking around and taking a deep breath, she slowly peeled one of the books off the shelf, a volume titled: '_Grunther's Encyclopedia of Organic Potion Making, Volume 1.'_

Just then, the door flew open. Cosette panicked slightly as she stuffed the book back onto the shelf, backing away and trying her best to look innocent. She was somewhat surprised to see that it wasn't Professor Snape that entered the room first, but Headmaster Dumbledore, a pleasant smile on his face. Snape followed shortly after Dumbledore, scanning the room as if to assess any damage done to it in his absence. His eyes landed on the book Cosette had taken from the shelf, staring at it for several seconds.

"Ah, there you are Cosette, I have been looking all over for you."

Cosette looked up at the elderly man, wondering if he was entirely sane.

"Now first things first, we must get something very important sorted. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

Cosette didn't say anything; she simply sidled away from Dumbledore to stand closer to Professor Snape, where she suddenly felt much safer.

"That's a no then?" Dumbledore smiled as he ate one of the lemon drops. "Now then, I want you to know that all the danger has been sorted out."

"Is it dead?" Cosette asked instantly.

"Severus?"

Snape glared at Dumbledore and then his eyes slowly shifted down to Cosette.

"Yes, I killed it."

Cosette's eyes widened in amazement as her opinion of the Potions Master seemed to increase.

"Yes, our Gamekeeper is quite distressed over the whole affair," Dumbledore said simply. "Though we couldn't have it running about the castle, sadly."

Cosette didn't say anything, even though she wanted to desperately. Why was it there to begin with?

"We are deeply sorry that you got involved in this whole fiasco," Dumbledore said sadly. "It goes deeper than you know, but for now, all is well."

Cosette was still silent, wishing she had the confidence to voice her questions. Instead, she just felt like shrinking back.

"There will be more time to explain everything that has happened, but I think you should know that your brother is in the Hospital Wing. I would encourage you not to worry however as he is expected to make a speedy and full recovery."

Cosette's eyes widened and she momentarily forgot the dog even existed. Her brother was in the Hospital Wing?

"Now then, I think it best we all go to bed. We will be able to better deal with these matters after a good night's sleep. Come on my dear, I shall escort you back to your dormitory."

Cosette looked fearfully at the door, remembering the growling and snarling from Fluffy.

"C-can Professor Snape escort me instead?" Cosette murmured miserably, thinking of all the other rabid beasts that could potentially be wandering the dungeons of the school.

Dumbledore gave a small smile, a twinkle in his eye.

"But of course, it is only appropriate I imagine that your Head of House take charge of the present situation."

Snape looked at Dumbledore; a small twinge of dislike could be seen in his emotionless features.

"Good night Severus, see you in the morning," Dumbledore said as he turned, disappearing through the door with a swish of his cloak.

Snape didn't say anything for several moments. He looked down at Cosette, and Cosette looked up, realizing with a slight shock that this was the first time in the entire year that they had made any form of eye contact. It was rather odd; Snape's eyes gave the weird feeling that he was reading her mind and she thought briefly that knowing the wizarding world at this point, he probably was. This made her turn away quickly.

Snape turned and quickly walked out, making long strides out the door, giving no indication that she was meant to follow or turning to make sure she was. She quickly made to keep up with him as they made their way back to the dormitory.

Harry fell down into complete darkness as he fainted. He saw something gold floating above him, the Snitch was his first thought. He couldn't quite tell what it was, as he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. He tried to reach up and grab the Snitch but found his arms to be incredibly heavy. It was with some very sluggish movement that he lifted his right arm to grab to gold object, realizing that there was someone's face behind it and it certainly was not a Snitch. He realized rather slowly through his blurry vision that he was holding a pair of eye glasses. Remembering Quirrell, he panicked, trying to sit up but finding he couldn't, and he stuffed the glasses hastily onto his face. They felt odd and unfamiliar on his face, the lenses were not circular like his own glasses, but at least now his vision wasn't blurry. Light began to flood his eyes as he looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, looking somewhat peculiar without his half-moon shaped glasses. The elderly wizard gave a small smile.

"I'm glad to see that you finally came to, Harry," Dumbledore said simply.

"Professor! Quirrell, he has the Stone, you have to stop him!"

"Relax dear boy, Quirrell does not have the stone."

"What about Voldemort?" Harry said immediately.

"It seems that you are a bit behind on the times, dear boy."

Harry puzzled over his meaning.

"The Stone, Quirrell has been trying to steal it! He won't stop until he has it and then he'll bring Voldemort back!"

"Now then dear boy, relax or I dare say Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry slowly looked around, realizing that he was in the Hospital Wing. His many cuts and bruises had been bandaged and a giant pile of sweets, get well cards, and oddly enough, a toilet seat lay at the foot of his bed.

"Tokens from your many friends and admirers," Dumbledore said, fitting a pair of round spectacles onto his face. The glasses looked awfully familiar.

"Sir… what happened?" Harry asked, trying to piece everything together.

Dumbledore's eyes shined.

"Well you see Harry, what happened between you and Quirrell down the trap door is a secret, so naturally, the whole school knows. I had found you down there quite affright by the sight before me."

"You saved me…" Harry murmured.

"Yes, but I do say you were doing an admirable job yourself, for a first year," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"So then… the Stone…" Harry started.

"It is safe, though I have spoken with my dear friend Nicolas, and we have agreed that it should be destroyed before any other harm can happen because of it."

Harry sat back with a solemn look on his face, turning to look back up at Dumbledore; he only then recognized his glasses. Face blooming red, Harry pulled the spectacles off his face and studied them.

"Um…sir…?" Harry offered them unsurely.

Dumbledore smiled and calmly switched glasses with him, placing his own half-mooned shaped glasses in the familiar imprint on his crooked nose.

"Your friends Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger have been worried about you, and your sister…well, I had to usher her off, the poor girl. She has hardly left your side these past three days."

"Three days?" Harry said with widened eyes. He was out for three whole days? She was here? Why? He thought she was mad at him.

The elderly wizard nodded. There was long pause where neither of them said anything. Dumbledore hummed a merry tune as his eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said coming out of his trance.

"Is there any way that Voldemort might be able to come back?"

"I am afraid to say there are ways he can return. Perhaps he will find another body to share. Not being truly dead, he cannot be killed." Dumbledore gave a small smile. "However, it would seem that you have delayed his return to power, still it will only take one other poor soul such as Quirrell's who is willing to fight what seems to be a losing battle for Voldemort to get over the threshold back into power."

"Why would Quirrell do such a thing? Willingly give his body to someone else? It seems so…"

"Intrusive?" Dumbledore supplied. Harry was going to go for "crowded," trying to share one body and all.

"You see Harry, Quirrell was weak. During school, he was a brilliant student, but always desired to be recognized. He was the running competition of another student in his year, a fellow Ravenclaw housemate. However, the other boy had the wiles and charms to surmount him. Quirrell never had the self-confidence in himself, or the natural charisma of his rival. It seems that that was the catalyst in his life. While his rival went to become a renowned, well-respected author and won many awards, including a Third Class Order of Merlin, he resigned himself into a teaching career, a job that fit his more mundane lifestyle."

Dumbledore looked forlornly out the window.

"I blame myself for not realizing it sooner, but his desire for prestige and respect had only grown after time. He found himself searching for his fame, and wound up finding Voldemort."

"But why would he join him? Didn't he know what he was in for?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Ah Harry, Voldemort can be very persuasive. He searches everyone for their weaknesses and exploits them without mercy. He convinced Quirrell through promises of his every desire. Quirrell became blinded by them, and Voldemort grabbed onto that weakness. After a time, Quirrell had no choice in the matter. He became as much a victim as any of us."

This answer surprised Harry. It was hard to imagine that Quirrell was actually innocent, that he was taken control of by Voldemort, that he probably was forced to do all those things, simply because he wanted to make a name for himself. Harry almost felt bad for Quirrell. No one deserved that.

"Sir, what happened to Quirell? Where is he now?"

Dumbledore suddenly frowned.

"I'm sorry to say, that Quirrell's body was destroyed during the whole encounter."

"I…killed him…" Harry murmured, and his eyes went wide. Harry had killed someone. He had murdered a teacher. The boy's blood ran cold. He killed someone. He was a murderer. A murderer.

"Harry."

His name snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked at the elderly wizard.

"You must understand. Quirrell has been dead ever since he joined his soul with Voldemort. What you faced was nothing but a shell in which Voldemort used as a tool to survive. A mere puppet."

It was some relief, but hard to believe. How could he be so sure?

"And even if there was some part of Quirinus still in there," Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder . "He would have wanted you to finally release him from the control he couldn't overcome himself."

He opened his mouth to say something, but found he couldn't let anything escape. Release him? Free him from Voldemort's clutches? Harry still couldn't shake the fact that it was him, what _his _hands did. Maybe there could have been another way…something else to save Quirrell. As much as he didn't like the man, he didn't deserve to die…

"Do not pity his existence; you are not to blame for any of this, Harry. Promise me you won't. Death is too big a burden to be placed on someone as young as you. You are a compassionate boy. And I hope that you will have that same compassion for those in the future who have also chosen the wrong path. We all can find our way back to the light. Remember this."

Harry nodded, but stopped as he realized that it hurt. He then turned to Dumbledore.

"Sir? There is something I've been wondering about," Harry said. "I want to know something, the truth."

Dumbledore gave a small smile.

"The truth is a wonderful and terrible thing, I shall answer your question if I can but you must trust me when I say that I shall not or cannot answer you something, for I will not lie to you Harry."

Harry nodded, then cringed.

"Well firstly, why is it that Quirr—" Harry choked on the name, finding it hard to utter it as he was hit with guilt and despair, "_He_ burnt up when he touched me?"

Dumbledore slowly sat down on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Your mother was a very vibrant and brave woman. She made the ultimate sacrifice in order to protect you. Such an act leaves a very powerful mark. Quirrell shared his soul with Voldemort and the protection your mother gave you that tragic night has simply never died, and as such her protection lives on in you and your sister. Voldemort cannot bear to touch you."

Harry sniffed involuntarily as he tried to hold back his tears. Dumbledore in the meantime seemed to become interested in a bird sitting on the windowsill. When Harry regained his composure, he asked Dumbledore another question.

"What about my invisibility cloak…did you send it to me?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Hm, I see I am not as sneaky as I once thought, but yes. I am the one who sent it to you. Your father used to use it to sneak about, mainly to sneak into the girl's locker rooms… anyway, I thought you might want it, and to your sister, I gave the locket."

Harry was silent for a moment.

"And one more thing… It's about Snape."

"That's professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected.

"Right, him," Harry continued. "Why doesn't he like me very much? I mean, people told me he is mean to everyone…but I feel that there is something more. I mean, I was convinced he didn't like me because he knew I was on to him, but he never intended to steal the stone anyway."

"Ah," Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Yes you see, it seems that Professor Snape never got on too well with your father when he was your age. The two fought quite frequently, much like yourself and Mr. Malfoy."

Harry thought this made much sense, picturing Snape as the tormenting Slytherin with the pompous stuck up, bullying attitude—it seemed to fit his character.

"Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" he smiled as he walked over to the candy in question and opened one up and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth.

He chewed pleasantly for a few seconds before saying, "Alas! Ear wax."

Harry smiled and Dumbledore returned it.

"I bid you good day Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, leaving the hospital wing.

Upon leaving the hospital wing he heard Dumbledore address someone outside.

"You can go in now, but I dare say Madam Pomfrey will not be pleased. Good day to you."

Harry watched as both Ron and Hermione pelted through the door, running over to his bedside.

"Oh Harry, we were so worried!" Hermione said, looking like she was ready to fling her arms around him again. Harry was glad she didn't.

"Everyone in the school is talking about it mate, what actually happened?"

Harry told them everything that happened. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they were silent and gasped in horror at all the right moments in his tale. He finished by relating his conversation that he had with Dumbledore, he left out the part where he took Dumbledore's glasses, and the part about Quirr— _him_.

"So the Stone's gone?" Ron said dully.

"Yeah."

"Flamel will die, won't he?" Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head gravely.

"What happened with you guys after I left?"

"Well, it's not very exciting. We made it into the chess room when, of all people, Snape showed up with Dumbledore. We tried to warn Dumbledore, but he simply explained to us that Snape was not involved and preceded into the next room after you. He told Snape to deal with us and he brought us both back up through the trap door, dropping us both off in the Hospital Wing," Hermione sighed.

"And taking about a _hundred_ house points," Ron mumbled.

The group was silent for several moments.

"Slytherin definitely won the house cup," Ron said out of the blue.

Harry looked at him.

"We got swamped by Ravenclaw in yesterday's match," Ron said dully. "Still, you have to be at the end of the year feast tomorrow, the food will still be good."

"Yeah," Harry said vaguely.

"Oh, by the way Harry, I collected your grades for you," Hermione said handing him a slip of parchment from her pocket.

"Hermione wouldn't let me read it, she said only you could decide if you wanted to share your grades or not. Let me see them," Ron said.

Harry immediately and without question handed the parchment to Ron. Hermione looked reproachfully at the exchange.

Ron unfolded the paper and gave a small laugh.

"Ha, you got a T in Potions, that's worst than my grade!" He handed Harry the parchment.

Harry looked at it grimly, noticing the angry, bold mark by his grade.

"Even if he didn't actually try to steal the Stone, I still hate that greasy git," Harry said grimly.

The feast the following night was wonderful. Harry was glad that Dumbledore had told Madam Pomfrey he was allowed to come because the healer did not seem at all happy about the prospect and if left up to her authority, Harry probably would have still been there. Harry was swarmed by a thick entourage of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and a few Slytherins, all eager to hear the story of him and Quirrell and what actually happened. Cosette watched rather mournfully from her usual secluded corner of the Slytherin table. She was still shaken by the news that her brother was put in such danger and nearly died because of it.

The night that Cosette was told that her brother was in the Hospital Wing, she couldn't sleep a wink. She skipped breakfast to go and visit him to find him to be very poor conversation being unconscious. She was only able to be pulled away after Madam Pomfrey insisted that she go to class. Cosette did as she was told miserably.

At least her teachers were pleased that she got most of her make-up work done, though she didn't have much luck paying attention to any of them in class, not even Professor Snape's class which she liked even more after that night he saved her from the three-headed dog. When she got her grades, she was a little put out to notice that they hadn't improved by much, only the Defense Against the Dark Arts grade showed any improvement, only because of how ridiculously easy the exam was. She also noted with a pang of disappointment that her Potions grade had dropped an entire grade. It seemed that unlike the other teachers, Professor Snape was not as willing to erase those missing assignments from her absence while in the Hospital Wing.

She skipped lunch to visit her brother and did the same at dinner, but the next day, when she tried to skip breakfast again, Madam Pomfrey, who was well aware of Cosette's habit of taking ill care of herself, told her, "You either pick a bed, or go to your meals." Cosette miserably picked the latter, dreading another stay at the Hospital Wing. She still visited when she could, not daring to leave his side. She tried to ignore the growing number of sweets, get well cards and other assorted gifts. No one sent her gifts when she was in the Hospital Wing, why does Harry get so many? Fred and George stopped in to drop off of all things a toilet seat, and despite having a certain fondness for the twins, she was in no mood for their antics which they, unlike most, seemed to catch onto really fast.

Worst still was all the rumors that were spreading around and after hearing several different versions of the same ludicrous story, she felt less inclined to sit at her brother's side so loyally after hearing the some of the accounts of how he got into the Hospital Wing to begin with. But she needed to make sure her brother was alright, she didn't know what she would do without him.

She was pried away from him by the Headmaster one day, who later reported that he had come to and he was going to be alright. As soon as this news reached her ears, she resumed her almost obsessive habit of ignoring Harry. He didn't need her; he had friends that replaced her. She couldn't help but feel resentful at her twin's own stupidity in going after the Stone as he supposedly did. Not to mention no one seemed to care how stupid it was, they were all intrigued and impressed by him as they always were by everything the famous Harry Potter seemed to do.

Even though she cared little for the House Cup, she was at least glad her house got that over Harry's, and was pleased to see the Great Hall decked in green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's hard earned victory on the night of the end of the year feast, even with everyone crowding around Harry.

She tried her best to eat her food, and ignore everyone around her, which was easier given the fact that Melvin Aguillard was among Harry's entourage. She was going to leave as soon as dessert began, but decided to stay, if just to see Harry's defeated expression when her house was awarded the House Cup after the feast. The thought of even touching any of the dessert items, however, made her feel quite ill. After dessert came the moment that Cosette was so anxious to be there for. Dumbledore stood up, Harry's entourage found their seats and everyone quickly quieted down.

"Another year, gone…" the old man announced to the room. "I trust that everyone here has learned much this past year, and grown that much stronger and wiser," Dumbledore beamed at all the students, pausing for a moment.

"Now, the house points need counting, and most of all, the House Cup needs awarding," Dumbledore said pausing for a moment. "And it gives me great pleasure to do both." Dumbledore gave another pause.

"In fourth place, with three-hundred and twelve points, Gryffindor house!" There was a very half-hearted round of applause at this, with some of the Slytherins jeering with laughter as well. Dumbledore continued. "In third, with three-hundred and fifty-two, Hufflepuff." Yet another mild amount of cheering.

"In second place, Ravenclaw house, with four-hundred and twenty-six." At this, there was more clapping, and some mildly animated cheering from the Ravenclaw table.

"And finally, in first place, with four-hundred and seventy-two, Slytherin!" Dumbledore announced proudly. There was much cheering, table banging and shouting from the Slytherin table. Everyone seemed happy, even Cosette. The only Slytherin that seemed unhappy was Aguillard, who was insisting it should have gone to Hufflepuff.

"Yes, well done Slytherin, a very good year indeed. However, I have a few last minute points to reward as certain circumstances deem such appropriate."

Everyone was silent once more; the Slytherins looked at Dumbledore confused. Cosette stared at the elderly wizard; what could his implications possibly be?

"First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley." Ron went quite red, taking on the shade of a badly sunburned radish. "For outstanding loyalty to his friends, I award Gryffindor house, fifty points."

There was a round of cheering from the Gryffindor table, they had beat Hufflepuff and were now in third place. Aguillard groaned in protest as the rubies counting the Gryffindor points flew down among the other rubies.

"Next, to Ms. Hermione Granger," Dumbledore said proudly after the cheering had subsided. "For cool use of logic in the most dire of circumstances, I award another fifty points to Gryffindor."

There was another round of cheering from the Gryffindor table. Cosette could hardly believe it; the Headmaster was going to give the House Cup to the Gryffindors after all. She supposed it was to be expected, all the teachers except for Snape seemed to favor Gryffindor house, especially since her brother, the famous Harry Potter, was in it.

"To Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore pressed on. Cosette couldn't believe it, it seems that stupidity and rule breaking was always rewarded at this god forsaken school. First he's on the Quidditch team, and now this.

"For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house, sixty points."

The din was deafening as the Gryffindors realized that they had tied with Slytherin for the House Cup. Cosette looked helplessly at the other teachers, would they do nothing to stop Dumbledore from being this unfair? She looked towards Snape, her favorite teacher, who did nothing but sit and stare at Dumbledore, pure loathing burning in his eyes. She supposed Snape couldn't do anything, Dumbledore was the Headmaster, but at least he seemed to disapprove. At least they were only tied for the Cup, maybe that would mean they both could win it. Cosette realized she was wrong as Dumbledore continued to speak.

"Lastly, courage is a very important thing, and while it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to ones enemies, it takes a great deal more to stand up to your friends, which is why I award ten points, to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

The Gryffindors at this point had all stood up, cheering loudly, while the Slytherins looked hurt and cheated. The older students scoffed and kept murmuring things like, "I knew it," and "I told you so." Some of the Slytherin first years even began to cry.

"Assuming my calculations are correct, I believe a change of decoration is in order!" Dumbledore yelled over the cheering that he simply could not stop. He clapped his hands and the many green and silver decorations turned to red and gold, filling the Great Hall with the vibrant Gryffindor colors.

"Gryffindor wins the House Cup!" Dumbledore announced proudly.

Cosette stared mortified at the Headmaster. It was definitely a fitting way to finish off the worst year of her life so far. She got up and left, as many of the Slytherins did without even waiting to be dismissed. Instead of going to the common room like the others in her house however, she turned and went to the boathouse to grab her books and pack up, hopefully before Nott, Parkinson, or even Bulstrode showed up.

By the next morning, her sorry and tattered looking possessions were packed up and she was sitting, looking quite miserable, on the train. Camille Nott poked her head into the compartment to say good bye, and with a wide sneer she said, "I'll be looking forward to next year." With that, she skipped up the aisle to join Parkinson in a different compartment. It was then that a thought occurred to Cosette: next school year, she had to come back. She did not know which she preferred at this point, Hogwarts or the Dursleys. Her life at the Dursleys was miserable, but at least her brother was there for her, life was only so much better at Hogwarts without the emotional support she had relied on her twin to provide for so long. She watched curiously as her brother talked with Hagrid, and felt a small pang of guilt for not saying goodbye to the giant of a man. Harry had made so many friends this past year, she thought sadly. I didn't make any, everyone hates me. She turned away from Harry and saw people looking into the compartment, disgust visibly showing at the thought of sharing a compartment with an un-bathed Cosette.

Harry was managing differently, his mind was still a buzz with guilty thoughts of Quirrell and Voldemort, and the depressing fact that he was going back to the Dursleys. Although this summer could prove to be an interesting one as Ron had insisted that he come over during the summer. Harry promised he would, though he was not sure how he was going to fulfill this promise. He was about to get on the train when Hagrid called him over. Nearly slapping himself for forgetting Hagrid, he ran over. Hagrid gave a weak smile.

"I'm sorry… it was my fault," Hagrid sniffed. He looked ready to burst into heavy tears, Harry hoped he wouldn't. "All for a stupid dragon egg, I'll never drink again…"

Harry then understood what Hagrid meant.

"It's fine Hagrid, he probably would have found out anyway, this is Voldemort we're talking about."

Hagrid did not respond to the name as he usually would.

"I got somethin' fer yeh," Hagrid said pulling a shiny leather book from one of his many pockets.

Harry accepted the book and opened it, gasping at what he saw. It was a wizard's photo album of his parents.

"Was sendin' owls nonstop to all yer parents school friends to put that there together," Hagrid said. "I hope you and yer sister like it."

Harry felt his eyes involuntarily mist as he looked at his mother and father's smiling faces. He closed the book and hugged Hagrid, as much as he could at least. Hagrid awkwardly patted Harry on the back.

"Yeh best be gettin' on the train now, before it leaves. Tell yer sister goodbye fer me," Hagrid said and Harry pulled away. Pulling his trunk with him, he gave one last look at the waving Hagrid before joining his friends on the train.

He sat with them in a compartment, noting that his sister wasn't among them. He half wondered where she was. He spent the rest of the train ride in relative silence, still weighed down by remorse and shame while Ron was adamantly going over plans on how Harry could possibly visit him over summer break. He didn't tell his friends what exactly happened with Quirrell, and so they didn't know why he was so gloomy other than the idea of returning to the Dursleys. He was suddenly very glad his sister wasn't in the compartment. He didn't think he could ever look her in the eyes and tell her that he had killed a professor, no matter what Dumbledore said about it. What would she think of him then? Hammered with loathing, Harry sunk his head. When the trained pulled into King's Cross station, the first thing he was greeted to as he stepped off the train was a loud, high pitched girl's voice.

"There he is, mum! Do you see him? It's Harry Potter!"

Mrs. Weasley pulled the girl behind her.

"Hush, Ginny, it's rude to point!"

Ron and his brothers walked up to their family, where Mrs. Weasley welcomed them all with big hugs and kisses.

"Well, I guess this is it," Harry said as he looked over at Hermione. She smiled and threw her arms around him.

"I'll write you this summer, okay?" she said as she pulled away. Harry nodded.

"Take care." With one final smile, Hermione rushed off to her parents, dressed in standard muggle clothes. They welcomed her with open arms. Harry turned just then back to the train to see his sister awkwardly shuffle out of the train, her trunk crashing forward. Someone behind her snickered.

Walking towards the Weasleys, he smiled up at Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you for the fudge and sweater, Ma'am," Harry said kindly.

Molly Weasley brightened up at the small boy.

"Oh, it was nothing dear," her eyes lit up as she looked him over, yet when her eyes traveled towards somewhere behind him, her smile dropped somewhat in concern. Harry followed her gaze and noticed the scruffy form of his sister, gawkily standing there away from them, as if she didn't belong, staring at them from a distance.

"Come on you two, we haven't got all day!"

Cosette visibly jumped and flinched at the voice. Turning, Harry spotted the stout angry visage of Uncle Vernon. It seemed some things never changed.

"I'll see you later then, Ron," Harry murmured.

Ron shook his head.

"Erm…have a good summer, Harry."

With that, Harry looked at his sister, who had a small lead on him and was walking hesitantly towards Uncle Vernon, who was busy grumbling something to Cosette, making her head sink farther and farther.

"Oh, I will," Harry mumbled to Ron. "After all, I may not be able to cast magic outside of school…but Dudley doesn't know that…"

* * *

><p>AN: We would like to thank every one of you who have read our story. We have received many nice and encouraging reviews, and are happy that you have all enjoyed our story; though I have to warn you to prepare yourselves for this next bit of information. The second book is not yet complete; we will not be posting anymore chapters until it is. On that note, you can check our profile for updates on when we will be posting again, but I assure you that it will be finished no later than April. Again, thank you to our supporters we hope to hear from you again when the second book is up!<p> 


End file.
